


What Lies Beneath the Autumn Leaves

by Big_Diesel



Category: Yandere Simulator (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Breaking and Entering, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fantasy, Femdom, Forbidden Forest, High School, Horror, Implied/Referenced Incest, Male Character of Color, Oracles, Panic Attacks, Poetry, Prophecy, Prophetic Visions, Prophets, Psychological Drama, Psychological Horror, Repressed Memories, Romance, Seizures, Slice of Life, Spirits, Spiritual, Stalking, Supernatural Elements, Suspense, Teacher-Student Relationship, Yandere
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2017-03-06
Packaged: 2018-08-17 06:20:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 46,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8133506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Big_Diesel/pseuds/Big_Diesel
Summary: This is a story of Taro Yamada and the journey he is facing in his last year of high school. A new teacher has entered the school and for some reason, Taro feels that he has met the mysterious woman in the past. Stay tuned as you read What Lies Beneath the Autumn Leaves.





	1. I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys! Big Diesel here! Here is a new story that is currently in the works. I am currently experimenting with freewriting this story and hopefully, it will work out like my previous work, These Grey Skies.
> 
> I don't have a summary at this time, but stay tuned and be patient. 
> 
> As always, this story is a work of fiction. If you are able to deviate fantasy from reality, then please read. Hope you guys enjoy this ongoing series. Thanks and God bless!

It was a crisp autumn morning. A clear autumnal blue sky or that deep blue sky of autumn. He felt the sun's warmth on his back, dispelling the autumn chill. A clump of golden leaves at the top of the green tree heralding the coming of fall. Golden-edged leaves leaves nipped by frost, golden trees with here and there a red maple lending its brilliant scarlet color to the scene. The rustle of golden leaves under the trees. He heard the delighted barks of two dogs dove through the pile of leaves, chasing each other round and round and scattering golden leaves everywhere. He slightly smiled at the scene. He was certain that their owner will have to rake their leaves in the yard.

He inhaled as the cool autumn wind soothe him as if it was cleansing his soul. He smiled as he walked his usual route through the town square. Alas, the remnants of summer passed away as the locals exchanged their short sleeve shirts and shorts for long sleeve jackets and pants. No longer could he smell the fragrance of the bakery's apple pie as it was exchanged for the pumpkin pie and hot cocoa. He even could smell the air of the earth's perfume as it nipped his nose.

As he crossed the street to the side road that led to his school, he witnessed the colorful bashfulness of the schoolchildren playing with the leaves. Like confetti did the leaves swirled along with the screams and excitement from the schoolchildren. If he had a camera, the scene would have been picturesque. His heart became warm even though the temperature was not, but it had brought him great joy that his favorite time of year took precedence.

Taro Yamada loved autumn because it reminded him of himself: relaxed, enjoyable, easy-going, comfortable, and vibrant. The latter of his personality was in small doses because he was working hard on bettering himself. This was his senior year of high school, the final moments of his adolescence before metamorphosing in a young adult. With college exams steadily approaching, his time as a high schooler was running out.

He reflected on how he spent his years as a high school student. A shy student he was, he hid behind his black hair as he blended in with his fellow peers. He didn't join any clubs and if he did, they were only on a trial basis.

His reason of deeming these clubs inadmissible was not because he thought he was better than them. He was afraid of opening himself to his fellow classmates. Ever since he was a child, he was afraid of expressing himself to his classmates. His parents thought it was because of his early days in elementary school as he was bullied. Although he faced some hazing, that wasn't the primary reason, according to Taro. His younger sister thought it was a lack of self-confidence. He described himself to not be as confident, but he felt that he was capable of loving himself. Once again, that wasn't the reason for opening himself to classmates. With the exception of his loose friendship and childhood friend, Osana Najimi, the friends he had in-and-out of his life, he called them "seasoned friends." At one point they are there, and the next, they are gone.

Taro Yamada was afraid to not open himself up to classmates because he felt that they will not understand his aura. His aura, or lack of any better word, was his word choice to describe his inner spirit. He had become accustomed to the word when he briefly joined the occult club in junior high school. He believed that there are certain spirits that can only intertwine together. He has yet to find a certain friend that can match his chemistry. Because of his uncertainty with people and with his personality, the only source of comfort that he could find a friend was with books.

Books became a source, better yet, a window to open his emotions as much as he pleased. He became quite acquainted with books during his second year of high school. On a field trip, he and his classmates were required to read a book of poems before having an open forum with the poet. As he sat in the hotel, he decided to give a book a chance. Before then, he wasn't much of a reader. He let manga and video games be the deciding factor of his spare time. However, once he read a certain part of a page, he felt a stunning connection as if the poet was reading into his soul.

_An autumn gust blows_

_Chilling the air and blowing_

_The clouds and the trees_

_The leaves blow away_

_In a final flight they dance_

_Beautiful yet dead_

_Is it cruel or kind_

_That the leaves never truly_

_Do perceive their flight?_

Upon reading that particular passage, any source of melancholy or apathy went away as he was moved by the passage. He continued reading into the night until the day of the forum. He hung on every single note the poet escaped from her lips. Her passion became his passion. He was enraptured by the loves of books and since then, it became his oasis, his solace, and his friend.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the school bell. Its' chimes were welcoming; signifying and alerting that _all students are invited to come to school to begin their learning. Welcome to school! Welcome to your future!_

He soon became a part of the crowd as they packed the square for another day at school. Their high school was a private institution and considered one of the best in the prefecture. Being admitted to this school wasn't easy and Taro was on the waiting list before being entered on a conditional basis. The private high school was the high school for the elite. The majority of the students who came to the school came from upper middle-class families. The sons and daughters of businessmen, socialites, doctors, lawyers, entertainers, and the like filled the school with the hopes of upholding the school's reputation. These were the students who plan to attend national universities following high school.

Taro Yamada was not the case. Coming from a working-class family, his father was a salaryman and his mother was a grocery clerk at a supermarket. Regardless of his upbringing, his parents strived for the best for him and his sister. Education was a top priority and he saw how they worked countless hours so that he could be admitted to the prestigious high school. Frankly, it didn't matter to him about attending the school. He would have felt better off attending a local one in his neighborhood. However, his parents didn’t want to hear it. He could remember the day when he was in junior high and his parents had him sign the papers for acceptance.

'Mom, dad, you don't have to do this,' he said as he looked at the application. The application displayed his acceptance to the high school. Once he signed the papers, he would be in.

'Son,' said his father, 'Your mother and I want you to go to the best of the best. We want you to do things that we were unable to do. Don't you want a future? Don't you want to go to college, be successful, and outdo your parents?' Taro could remember the worriedness in his father's eyes. Those tired, worrisome set of eyes became accustomed to his father's look as he worked over 70 hours a week at a job he could hardly stand. As much Taro wished that his father could stop overworking himself to death, he still worked. His father said to him, _When you want the best for your children, my happiness is nigh. For you and your sister, I will do what I can so that you can have a future._

'Please, Taro,' said his mother gently as he felt the soft grip of her hand on his shoulder. He knew that her hand around his shoulder meant that it was a plea. It was a nudge to go over and beyond for the sake of the family.

Taro knew that there were only a couple of times he had felt compelled to do something like that. One of which was when he was in elementary school and his father had to move to another town in another part of the island. He was finally getting adjusted to his new school before the abrupt move. It was hurtful to him, but for the sake of the family.

'I know that you want the best for me, mom and dad. But there are other ways. Think about yourselves. I hate seeing you all like this,' he said. 'I have no problem going to a local school. It will be free and money doesn't have to be an issue. I promise that I will work hard. I promise that I will go to college. But, I don't like seeing yourself stress over me.'

'Please, son. It is not every day that you get an opportunity like this,' said his father. 'Don't worry about us. We will be fine. Think about the richness of education being provided to you. Think about the opportunities of associating yourself with the elite. Think about the opportunities of being in the best colleges in Japan.'

'Look at it as an investment, dear,' said his mother. 'It is a partial scholarship and payment won't be as harsh. I can work my hours the same and your father can work a little less.'

'I just don't like that you are hurting yourselves for me,' said Taro as he tried his hardest not to swell any of his emotions. 'I have seen too many people like you who work themselves to death. And I love you too much to lose you. And for what, just to say I went to a fancy high school?'

There was silence for a moment. The atmosphere of the living room was thickened. His father took the pen from his desk and handed it to his son. 'Taro, I promise we won't work ourselves to death. We think about you and your sister all of the time. But we are tired of being in a bind. We work so hard so that you can have a future. Not just for you, but for us. Our parents didn't have the opportunities to go to college, let alone finish school. I didn't have the chance to finish high school myself. I dropped out after getting your mother pregnant with you. She managed to finish school. She tried to go to trade school, but dropped out after it became difficult raising you and your sister.'

His mother interjected. 'When the school allowed us a chance to enroll you, we were thrilled. I knew that this school can help you and nurture you to become a young gentleman. I know you are a selfless boy. You always have. You always looked out for us and had to bear the sacrifices like us. We are asking you one more time to go over and beyond for us. So, please.' She took the pen from her husband and wrapped it around Taro's hand. The soft, gentle warmth of her hand wrapped softly around him. He closed his eyes to exhale and just sigh. 'Okay,' said Taro as he signed the admission letter to the school. Both of his parents kissed him on each cheek as he did the altruistic deed.

The sound of the school bell interrupted his thoughts, returning him to reality. The atmosphere of the high school was very active and vibrant as it was on any day. He passed through a group of girls in their matching blue blouse and blue skirts. They were laughing about something that they did over the weekend. He then passed through the bike racks where he saw a couple of boys talking about their encounters with a female classmate or watching some inappropriate video. He sighed as he was familiar to usual whims of typical high school life. Now back to the matter at hand, his place of solace-the school fountain.

Every day without incident, Taro Yamada made his venture to the school fountain. It became an everyday routine since the beginning of his second year. Taro enjoyed the beauty of nature that surrounded him. With the entrance of autumn, this could not have been a better time to began his routine.

Once he found a proper place to sit, he pulled out his book from his backpack and began reading. This book selection was the collection of poems written by Maya Angelou. A few months ago, Taro began taking interest in reading African American literature after a foreign exchange student attending the school recommended it to him. An avid reader and open to any genre, he subjected himself to this book and never had put it down since. Soon, the sounds of laughter from his peers and the sounds of the fountain spraying triumphantly faded away as he escaped into his book.

After awhile, he heard the final chimes of the school bell and he knew that it was time to go inside for class. He placed his book inside of his backpack and headed toward the school doors. The school doors, beautiful and made with the finest of glass and steel, donned itself to the elite as they entered the school. He went inside and went to his locker. He took off his shoes and placed them in the locker. He then put on his school shoes. As he trying to leave, he heard of the sound of a young gentleman calling his name.

"Wait up, Taro," said the boy. Taro turned around and saw the smiling face of the foreign exchange student. The boy was brown skinned. He was tall and had long black hair. Although he was a teenager, he appeared childlike. He came and approached Taro as he stuck out his hand.

"Hey, Marcus, how are you," said Taro as he stuck out his hand to shake it. "I am just getting into the book that you gave me. I really like it." "Thanks," said Marcus. "I knew that you liked poetry a lot and I thought you could diversify your taste." "I appreciate that, Marcus," said Taro with a smile.

Taro Yamada and Marcus Joseph were more of acquaintances than they were friends. Marcus Joseph was a foreign exchange student from the United States spending his senior year in Japan. Although they were in the same class, their acquaintanceship began when they were visiting a bookstore. Their love for books established a connection with the pair. Since then, they would exchange poems, books, and manga with each other.

"I must say, Marcus, your Japanese is getting a lot better," said Taro as the pair were walking the hallway on the way to class.

"Thanks, man. Haruka is great at being a tutor and she is teaching me well," said Marcus. Taro kind of smile and bump his elbow at Marcus' arm.

"With that tone of voice, I can guess someone is crushing on someone." 

"Cut it out, man," said Marcus as he blushed. "We are not like that. I don't think Haruka is even thinking of me like that. We are in two different cultures."

"Don't think like that. So you are American and she is Japanese. Last time I checked, love is love, my friend. If you like her, then go for it."

"Another time perhaps," said Marcus. "Oh, did you hear that we are getting a new Japanese teacher?"

"Really," said Taro with a hint of a surprise coming from his voice. "When was this announced?"

"It was over the weekend. They didn't get into detail, but the headmaster said that we were getting a new teacher," said Marcus. "However, word around the campfire was that the teacher 'transferred.'"

Taro stiffened by hearing the word, _transferred_. At this high school, transferred was a euphemistic term for being fired, arrested, or worse, death.

"I don't think there is nothing to worry about, Taro," said Marcus, giving Taro reassurance. "Rumors and hearsays are the common things at a rich school. For all we know, Hiroguchi-sensei may have wanted to retire. He was about almost in his 70s."

"Yeah, yeah, you are right," answered Taro. _Why does that word scare me so_ , he thought to himself.

"He is wrong, Taro. You should be scared. But not as scary as what I am going to do to you," said the rough, but gentle voice of a woman.

He sighed as he turned around and saw the sight of a beautiful redheaded girl in pigtails wrapping her arms around Marcus. She was short, yet slender. She had beautiful eyes. Her nose was curvy and she had a nice body. Her stomach was toned and her hips were slender. Her bust was average, but her butt made up for it.

"Hello, Osana," said Taro reluctantly.

"Hello, Taro," said Osana as she loosened her grip on Marcus before pecking him on the cheek. Flustered, Marcus left the pair as he rushed his way into the classroom.

"I just love American cuties like him. They can get so flustered," said Osana with a wink at Taro. "I hope you weren't jealous." She walked toward him, swaying her hips the entire time before she was face length with him. "If you want, I can have fun with you, too. For a price."

Taro was getting flustered as he felt the sweat vacating his pores from under his arms. Taro was an expert in speaking English and Japanese, but he still couldn't speak woman. He tried to back away before Osana grabbed his hips, pushing them closer together. "There, you are now within my reach," said Osana with a grin on my face.

"Why are making me so uncomfortable," said Taro as he averted his eyes from her. "Because seeing you like this makes me laugh. Also because you are acting so like a virgin."

"And your point is, Ms. Cheshire Cat," said Taro with a rebuttal. "Anyway, what do want?"

"Same thing like you," she said sharply. "Wanting to know what happened to our dear, poor Japanese teacher, Hiroguchi-sensei."

"I am surprised that you don't know," said Taro, "Since you are part of the Student Council."

"Well," she said flustered, "You know what, screw you. I don't need to have this kind of talk. Especially coming from a virgin." She huffed and puffed her way into the classroom.

"Same time, same place, next week," he said as he walked into the classroom. However, the thought of having a new teacher still reeled in his mind. Taro has had a history of separation anxiety. Since seeing the school counselor, he was finding alternative methods to soothe his worries with change.

 _I just hope that I will be okay. I hope that Hiroguchi-sensei is fine. Wherever he is_ , he thought to himself.

Suddenly, he heard the door of his classroom slid open. The class knew their position of remaining silent when hearing the opening of doors. The students stood in awe as if they saw an angelic presence approaching them. Taro looked down at his desk as he heard the loud footsteps echoing the room. When he finally looked up, he saw an appearance of a young woman in front of them.

It was a stunningly attractive brunette who entered the classroom. She was quite tall for a woman. She had a creamy white complexion. Her eyes were green. She had freckles that complimented her. She was wearing a black business suit with her dress stopping at the middle of the knee. Her legs were bashing. Her thighs were beautiful. Her main highlights were her breasts and her butt. Overall, this was a beautiful, curvaceous woman.

"Good morning, students," said the firm voice of the woman.

"Good morning, sensei," replied the class in unison.

She turned around to write her name on the board. The mouths of the boys were agape as they were entranced in such a beauty.

She turned around and introduce herself. "My name is Mitsuko Takahashi. From this moment on, I will be your sensei and your homeroom teacher for class 3-2."

She narrowed her eyes and scanned the entire class before focusing her sights on Taro Yamada. When her eyes met his, for a moment, he thought he saw a sparkle of red gleaming from her eyes. She gave a slight smile before turning around to start class. "Pull out your notebooks and let's begin." The class did what they were told and class began.

Taro felt a shiver went through his spine. He felt a deep lump coming from his throat. His palms were sweating and it was shown as his notebook was soaked. His mind was still focused on the red sparkle that came from her. Something about that was vaguely familiar. He couldn't finger on it. He decided to overlook it but kept it in reserve.

From the window, he was able to see the full picture of autumn's beauty as it laid its hand on the hillside. The clear blue sky became overlapped by the entrance of gray clouds. The clouds overlapped with each other, making the sky a gloomy gray. He closed his eyes as he desired to be a part of autumn, surrounded by the magnificent beauty of nature.

_It's okay. Just relax. It's only natural. You do these things when you love someone._

He opened his eyes as if someone whispered to him. He looked around, but the eyes of his peers were on their notebooks. Something was in the atmosphere along with autumn, and something was telling him that it was here to stay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed the first chapter. Look forward to more coming soon. Please, kudos and comment. Thanks again and God bless.
> 
> [Update]: I have been questioning my direction on where am I headed with this story. I don't want it to the be the usual route of classical Ayano and the others. There are too many stories on here like that. If you have any criticisms about this story, please feel free to comment. Thanks!


	2. A Spring Chicken in Autumn

The school bell chimed for the final time as school was dismissed for the day. The courtyard became active once again as students exited the building to do their various activities. From afar, there were a group of cheerleaders practicing their routine for the upcoming soccer game. There were a group of students from the kendo club, dressed in their traditional attire, walking toward the gymnasium. There were other students leaving the courtyard either heading home by train or bus. Some are being picked up by their parents or their chauffeurs in their luxurious vehicles. In front of the school's entrance, there were a group of students planning for something to do. Regardless of what plans the students have, it was in contrast on what the loner Taro Yamada planned.

He sat underneath the cherry blossom tree as the students were carrying on with their activities. On any given day, he would just go home. However, he decided that he wanted to stay after. He wanted to soak in the afternoon sun and be at peace with his dear autumn. This particular autumn day had Taro's spirits soaring beyond the colorful trees above. The brilliant shafts of sunlight caress the carpet of reds and golds before him, laid out like a carpet for a royal. Each breath of fresh air filled him with a sense of life that almost made him want to shout out loud, just to hear his voice echo amidst the trees; which is a fair contrast to his personality. This cherry blossom tree was very dear to him along with his fountain. To Taro, the cherry blossom tree was the grandeur, the main highlight of his school. The many of times he had spent under the tree that the rough-barked beauties were like his loyal acquaintances. If he could, he would hug if there weren't so many of his classmates about.

With his back against the tree, he pulled out his book of poems and began reading another chapter. He relaxed under the sounds of the wind, the birds, and the words of wisdom of Maya Angelou. It was too bad that his bubble would pop when a certain childhood friend came to interrupt his session.

"I would have figured that you would have stay behind. Trying to act cool under this tree, you baka," said Osana as Taro looked up at her. Taro gradually looked from her expensive black shoes to her salmon pink stockings with white polka dots to her face with her usually trademark expression of smugness. By now, he should have been used to her personality. However, through the shadows, she looked like a different creature. From that particular angle, Osana was very decent looking, at least that is what he thought. Her creamy complexion can tell him that she took care of herself. He smelled a faint scent of shampoo coming from her hair. Why was being particular to details about her today? Osana was right, he thought, he had spent too long at school.

"Why are gawking at me, you pervert," asked Osana. She placed her hands on her hips. Taro sighed because he knew he just entered one of her tirades. "You better be lucky that we are childhood friends, or else I would have knocked you in the middle of next week."

"With your flimsy, pampered hands, you couldn't if you tried," murmured Taro under his breath.

"What was that," asked Osana with a rebuttal. "Nothing, nothing," responded Taro. He wanted to end the conversation so that he could return and read his book. However, Osana went to the tree and sat next to him. She sat enough to give him space, but still at a close proximity that still made Taro uncomfortable. Osana knew about Taro's issues with space but didn't care.

"I am surprised that you are still here after school," said Taro. "I am, myself," said she said. "I was planning to leave until I saw an annoyance messing with my space. I decided that the annoyance needed to be taken care of."

"Aren't you a pillar to the community," responded Taro as he peered back to his book.

"You sure love to read, Taro," said Osana as she looked over his book. "You waste so much time by reading. If you go look for a girlfriend and pop your cherry, then you won't have to be such a baka."

 _At least when I do read a book, I don't have to worry about it talking back to me in such a cruel manner_ , he thought to himself. If he had the confidence to speak his true feelings instead of suppressing it, then handling the rambunctious Osana Najimi could have sufficed.

"I read, Osana, because it gives me something to do," said Taro as he closed his book. He knew he won't be reading any further since she was around. "I enjoy it. It brings me life. I like it so much so that I have began writing. Hopefully, it might be something I might pursue after high school."

Osana sort of grin with his previous statement. "With your grades, good luck. You still can't manage to do a decent job in English class, baka."

"Practice makes perfect," responded Taro. "At least I can speak English without being tie-tongued."

"How dare you, Taro," stammered Osana. "It's hard, but at least my grades are better in it than yours."

"Grades wouldn't matter when time for final examinations. If you want to go to school overseas, I suggest you pick something up to practice. At least read it to see if it is in English," said Taro. He sort of chuckled. In fact, he was surprised to his consistency of quips towards Osana. In the past, he would normally accept the comments she would say about him. Unsure of the certainty, he was sure not to regret.

"Very funny, you baka," she said. "You win this round, for now."

"I actually win a round? Yay me," said Taro sarcastically. After a moment, the pair were silent for a few minutes. They can hear the sound of baseball players practicing. They could hear the sounds of the cheerleaders practicing their routine. A student on a bicycle would pass from time to time. Taro looked slightly at Osana as she stared directly at the courtyard in front of them. Taro noticed the nape of her neck and saw sweat dripping from there. The musk of her fragrance impacted his nostrils. It was quite appealing.

"I got a question to ask you, Taro," said Osana as she turned in his direction. "Have you ever heard about the legend of this cherry tree?"

"Marcus mentioned to me about it, but I didn't give it much thought," he responded. Truthfully, he knew about the legend of the cherry tree. The entire school was aware of the legend of the cherry tree. He first heard about it when he came to the high school on tour a couple of years ago.

"They say that if you confess to the one you love under this tree on a Friday, then the person would become your love," said Osana as she placed her knees together and sat her chin on her arm.

"Yeah, Marcus did say something about that, but I don't really believe in it," said Taro. "It is just superstition to me."

"But imagine if it was real," said Osana. "Imagine what if you did confess to your crush, right here, right now, and if it were a Friday, what would you do?"

"What would I do," he asked aloud. He placed his finger on the cheek as he thought about it. Taro wasn't considered popular with the ladies. There have been a few in his adolescence, but all were momentary.

"I will be scared. It will be weird. Especially if it is a girl I really like," said Taro. He was honest with his statement, citing that he wouldn't know what to do for his inexperience with women. He has yet to have his first kiss, officially that was. Technically, his first kiss was with the devil herself, Osana Najimi. They were in the fourth grade and they were in the PE shed with other classmates. In a game of truth or dare, he was dared by the girls to kiss Osana. On a whim, he lightly pecked Osana with his lips. Embarrassed, Osana slapped him, knocking him to the floor and walked out of the shed in anger. That was the first time he witnessed heaven and hell at the same time.

"Don't you want to be with someone that you can love," asked Osana. Taro noticed that she nudged closer to him. "You will have to know the feeling one day. Unless you plan to be a virgin forever." She laughed and slapped him on the back.

 _You have been very concern about my love life. I kind of wish you could get off of it, please,_ he thought. "I do believe in happy endings. I want people to find love. Only when they think it is their time. I don't think you need some silly tree as a prompt to confess your feelings. It's all superstition. That is all."

"Know what, baka," said Osana as she stood up. "You're right. It is all but superstition. I was just testing you is all. It isn't like I wanted to ask you of all people. You were just there, that's all. Well, it is time for me to go home. Later, you baka."

"See you tomorrow, you crazy case," said Taro as he waved Osana goodbye. He watched her as she left the school and disappeared from the horizon.

Meanwhile, he was trying his hardest to explain to himself in his moment of weakness with Osana. _Why was I feeling some kind of way for Osana? There is something in the air aside from autumn. She is my friend, sort of, but I don't want to have that kind of relationship with her. Plus, my sister would kill me if she knew that I was interested in someone_.

He looked at his watch and saw that it was time to leave school. He picked up his materials and exited the school grounds. He stopped at the bus stop and took a seat on the bench to wait for his bus. Instead of heading home, he was getting ready to head to work at the bookstore where he will be working as a clerk.

About a year ago, his father was involved in a car collision that left him paralyzed from the waist down. Because of the severity of his injuries, his father could no longer work at the office and was placed on disability. Because of that, Taro's younger sister had to leave the private school that he also attended and went to public school. Fortunately, his mother was promoted to assistant manager at the supermarket and began to bring in more funds. However, it required her to work long hours.

To make matters worse, the doctor bills along with his outpatient treatment were out of their budget. To alleviate trouble, they sold their family car to pay for part of the doctor bills. They have borrowed money from family and friends. What was heartbreaking, especially for Taro's parents, was that Taro sold his prized baseball cards to help his father. _If you suffer, I suffer. You are my father. I promise to take care of you. This is for the sake of our future. No need to cry, dad. We will get through this. God will keep us in our home and I will finish school. So don't worry._

On his own volition, Taro decided to get a job for extra income. What better place to find a job than to find a place that sells books? There was a local bookstore in the atrium of the town's garden district. The bookstore was very popular and attracted a large crowd. The manager of the store was familiar with Taro as he frequented the establishment and decided to give him a chance.

About an half hour later, Taro exited the bus and headed for the garden district. By that time, the sun was the below the horizon. The sun's warmth was dissipated and the coolness of the autumn sky filled the void. He reached into his backpack to retrieve his red scarf. It was a present he received from his grandmother when he was child. She passed away when he was 14. He continued to treasure the scarf as it was something to keep her memory alive.

The cling of the bell alerted the another visitor had arrived at the bookstore. Although it was a second-hand store, the treasure trove of a collection of history regardless of any era could be found.

The dimmed lighting of the bookstore gave it a private affair for readers to enjoy their pursuit of knowledge. The wonderful sound of jazz made the quaint, quiet bookstore a more welcoming spot.

At the counter was an old woman, not the kind that should be pitied with their old bones and feeble limbs, but the kind who could still run an army kitchen if given a chance. She stood quite tall and slim. Her short grey hair, neat and likely styled with old-fashioned rollers, the kind women used to sleep in. Her face was made up with discrete make-up except her that her lips were cherry red. If she were any paler, then her mouth would be garish, but against her sun-kissed skin, it looked right. When she extend her hand to shake Taro, he could see the soil beneath her fingernails. A gardener, he concluded. Then he noticed her neck scarf, patterned with small roses. It was safe to say that she has one of the best gardens in her neighborhood.

"Aw, welcome Taro," said the gentle-voiced older woman, "Glad you could make it." She reached from behind the counter and gave him an apron. Attached to the apron was a nametag with his name on it. The nametag gave him a boost of confidence that he actually belonged to a team.

"Once you get yourself together," said the woman, "We have a new list of shipments that came in today."

"Yes, ma'am," said Taro as he went to the direction she pointed her fingers to.

Taro entered the backroom where they keep their extra stock of books and other materials. When he found the boxes she desired, he grabbed them and walked back to the opening to put them in their proper selves.

"Oh dear," she responded to Taro. "Don't be alarmed with the presentation of these books. These belong in our special area." She had a slight chuckle. Taro could see it vibrate through her wrinkled lips. Fearing the worst and much to his chagrin, he opened the books and saw that it did belong in the special area-erotica.

Her slight chuckle turned into a loud one as customer speculated on the commotion between the boss and the employee. "Such nubile you are, my dear," said the woman. "Now, you must work. You have plenty to do, you spring chicken."

Taro carried the first box and went to the bookstore to find the section. Row after row of neatly lined up books with their spines facing outward, color coded with dots. The fiction area was arranged in alphabetical order. The young adults section was labeled with pictures of their authors. There was a special area for manga for the youth. The children's section featured low shelves and floor cushions. The floor cushions were the bookstore's greatest highlight. Young and old alike loved to comfort themselves on the floor while reading a good book.

When arriving to the special area, the many graphic images of the book covers lit his eyes. From fictional erotica to the cover of hentai, Taro did his hardest to avert his eyes. Osana and his boss were right. He was nubile, naive, and a spring chicken when he came to sex. Taro was interested in the opposite sex, but couldn't imagine doing any sexual with them. The closest of sexual content he witnessed was when he was in sexual education class in the seventh grade. Even then, he covered his eyes through the "grotesque parts." Even with masturbation, he found that as an issue, but that will be something he would have think about another time.

As he finished bundling the first box of the erotica novels, from his peripheral was the sight of sheer beauty. She wore a black business suit. Her firm legs were exposed in front of him. She wasn't wearing any stockings, so he could see every detail of her soft and creamy skin. It was white like milk, which happened to be his favorite kind of complexion. As he looked up, he saw the stunning attractive brunette who happened to be his new Japanese and homeroom teacher.

"Well, I could never imagine running into one of my students here, would I," she said with a firm voice. Taro felt every syllable that escaped from her soft lips. Something about that voice was alluring and appealing. It was his teacher, Mitsuko Takahashi.

_It's okay. Just relax. It's only natural. You do these things when you love someone._

The thought hit him again. It was strange. He wasn't familiar with those words, but he felt that there was a reason if they are once again entering his consciousness.

"Are you okay," asked Takahashi-sensei

"Yeah I am," replied Taro.

"You are Taro Yamada, correct," asked Takahashi-sensei.

"Yes," he said. "I am in your homeroom and in your Japanese class."

"Oh, that's right," she answered as she picked out one of those books from the special area. "I didn't think they would allow young boys like you to do these kinds of jobs. It is bad for the brain."

"It's not really it," said Taro. "The guy who normally does this is out sick and it is just me and my boss tonight."

"Oh," she responded with a slight chuckle. "I guess that you get a pass, for now, Mr. Yamada."

He swallowed a lump. Was she flirting with him or was she just being funny with him? Regardless of what impact, he slightly got scared and aroused by the encounter. Trying to change the subject, he asked, "What brings you here to the bookstore, Takahashi-sensei?"

"I am new in town and I am quite an avid reader," said Takahashi-sensei. "When one of the teachers told me about this place, I decided to check it out for myself."

_She is an avid reader like myself. I have something in common with my teacher._

"You'll like it," Taro responded with a hint of excitement. "I have come here for awhile. I love to read many books, especially with poetry."

"I love poetry, myself, Mr. Yamada," replied Takahashi-sensei. "Something about rhythms and flows can be alluring and beautiful. Could you agree, Mr. Yamada?"

"I couldn't have said it better myself," said Taro. "Reading became such a passion since I went to see one of these poets on a field trip a couple of years back. She was such a lovely person and she spoke so well. It felt like she was speaking to my soul."

"Really now," asked Takahashi-sensei. "Could you care to spare me a few lines of that special poem?"

"Sure," he answered. He recited:

_An autumn gust blows_

_Chilling the air and blowing_

_The clouds and the trees_

_The leaves blow away_

_In a final flight they dance_

_Beautiful yet dead_

"Is it cruel or is it kind that the leaves never truly do perceive their flight," said Takahashi-sensei as she completed the poem for him.

"Yes, how did you know," said Taro. He looked at her again. He finally realized that was the very woman who recited the poem back on his field trip.

"You are her, aren't you," he said with excitement. "Why didn't see that before. You are the poet from the forum back then. But your name was different."

"It was a pen name," she said. "Mitsuko Takahashi is my given name. I went by the alias in order to separate myself from my other being.

"Oh, I see," responded Taro as he blushed and reveled at the fact that one of his favorite poems was written by his now teacher.

"I must say, Mr. Yamada," she said, "You have great taste in poetry. Why don't we get together after school tomorrow and I can help you find some better selections. I have quite a selection at my desk. They would _whet_ your appetite."

"I would be honored, Takahashi-sensei," said Taro.

"Good," she said with a smile. "I will let you get back to work. And by the way, Mr. Yamada. Spring chickens should not be reading that kind of dirty material. Understand?" She said that with a wink and left the bookstore.

He returned to the backroom to retrieve the other box of shipments. He was still in the afterglow of meeting one of his favorite poets. He felt that this senior year was going to be hopeful than he could imagine, or so he thought.


	3. Nothing Else Could Compare

He closed his notebook as he completed his homework. He placed it in his backpack and put it beside his desk. His homework was done for the evening and now, the tiresome Taro could finally rest. It was his first week on the job and already he wanted to quit. It was outside of his routine and he was quickly aware that the time at work would interfere with his homework schedule. It was not that he was a honor student, but he believed in modesty with his academics. He concluded that he was not going to a top national university like Osaka or the University of Tokyo. He definitely knew was he didn't have any chances of attending Keio University. It still didn't mean that Taro would go to any second-rate college. Remembering back to the day of his acceptance to the high school, he promised his parents that he would try his hardest to find the best college in Japan.

He rested his elbow on his desk. His room smelled of fresh magnolias that his mother got from the supermarket that she worked. His mother enjoyed nature. Raised in her native Kyoto, she was inept from the beginning to love nature. Every week, she would filled their rooms with scented flowers to give her family a feeling of tranquility. Taro, honestly, felt indifferent. Nonetheless, he was happy that his mother was feeling fine for a change; especially after the car wreck of his father.

He turned around as he cracked his knuckles. It brought such relief to his joints as he faced his small, but cozy room. The room contained a small bed, neatly made. It had two straight-backed chairs; one for hanging his uniform and the other for company. There were no curtains on his windows and there were no pictures on the wall. However, on his bedpost was a mural, a tree with every color of fall leaf imaginable and few more beside his window. With the scented magnolias on the mantle by the window, it gave his room an atmosphere of tranquility and solace; something that Taro wanted and acquired in his life.

With his homework completed, he had time to read one of the poems that his acquaintance Marcus let him borrow. Along with African American literature, Taro was also interested in Western literature. He sat on his small, delicate quilted bed and read a piece by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. As he read, there was one particular part of the passage that caught his interest. When explaining interest, it was not something that made him excited, but it was something of curiosity.

_Thy shield is the red harvest moon, suspended_

_So long beneath the heaven's o'er-hanging eaves;_

_Thy steps are by the farmer's prayers attended;_

_Like flames upon an altar shine the sheaves;_

_And, following thee, in thy ovation splendid,_

_Thine almoner, the wind, scatters the golden leaves!_

The passage sent a shiver down his spine. It spoke to him like a whisper in the wind. His heart began to beat loudly as he was trying to keep his composure.

_It's okay. Just relax. It's only natural. You do these things when you love someone._

It happened again, he thought. Just then, a ringing sound came from his ear. It was loud and was very impactive to the now worried Taro as he started to feel ill. He left his bed and was heading for the door until he began staggering. His hands were shaking, his heart was beating faster, and began sensing the hot, wetness coming from his nose. He knew it and feared for the worse. He was having the "attack."

His first memory of his "attack" was when he was the third grade. At the time, he was living in his father's hometown of Fukuoka on the island of Kyushu. As a young child, the elders that lived on the edge of town surrounding the forest told him and many young children to stay away from the forest. It was rumored that there were ghost that inhabited there and if any stranger, especially a young child, went into the forest, then the ghost would claim its soul. Taro knew about the legend as it was his grandfather who was one of the elders who claim the village on the outskirts of the town home. Rather if it was self-proclaimed or entitled, but his grandfather was a guardian to keep the spirits and the human apart from each other.

One evening, Taro broke the promise of his father and grandfather and walked into the forest. He did not want to go. It was a dare from a couple of the schoolchildren. They questioned his fear as they cornered him in the hallway that fateful afternoon at his school. They told him that if he was not afraid, then he would go to the shrine in the center of the forest and get an artifact from there. No longer wanting to be an outcast of his peer, the young, nubile Taro made his venture into the forbidden forest.

He was in the forest. The forest was ancient. The trees were thick and old and the roots were twisted. It might had once have been filled with birdsongs and animals that roamed, but it was now in the former ages of its glory. The lushness of vegetation on the tree was so dense that only any occasional streak of sunlight barely touch the forest floor. Even its thick vines were slowly taking away the last remnants of the shrine that stood in the center.

The leaves crackled like sandpaper as he took each step to the forbidden shrine. According to his classmates, it was legend that if he took an artifact from the shrine, it will bring him good luck. Not obliged with good luck, but don't want to be a laughing stock to his peers, he swallowed his pride and fear, he made his way. Each step was loud and creaky. It was very sorrowful with each step as if they were warning him to turn back while he still can. Ignoring its sound, he entered into its main area.

This "attack" was a long one. When Taro came to, he found himself on the floor. Taro closed his eyes, covered his mouth with a tissue, and gritted his teeth. He had no idea on how long was he out. Minutes? Hours? Seconds? He felt nauseated, more fatigued as he staggered from the floor to rest his head on the bed. These "attacks" happened from time to time. The doctors were unsure of what was the cause of it. Despite attending hypnotherapy sessions and speaking with psychiatrists, it was to no avail. He knew that it worried his family, especially his sister. She once mentioned that she had a friend that passed away from a seizure. Although unrelated with one another, the fear of losing someone close to her scared his sister, and it made her all the more closer to him. He wanted his mind to wake up, to get back in focus. But he knew that it would take time before his body would returned to normal.

Just then, he heard his cell phone rang. As it vibrated on his nightstand, he wondered who could it be? He hardly received any calls, and especially that late into the evening. On the third ring, he picked up the phone and out from the receiver was the sound of woman with her voiced cracked.

"Hello," said the girl, "Are you there, Taro. It is me, Kokona."

He sat up to readjust himself. He did not want to give her the impression that something was wrong. He cleared his voice and wiped the blood from his nose. He did his best to remain calm as he talked to another acquaintance.

"Hey, Kokona," said Taro, "what's going on?"

"I'm okay," said Kokona, "I didn't call this late, did I? I am sorry."

"No, you're fine, Kokona," said Taro, reassuring her that she was fine but very surprised. "It is just that I am surprised that you are calling me this late."

Taro looked at the clock and it was a quarter past nine in the evening. Around this time, Taro would prepare to head to bed. However, since his new work schedule, he had to push his bedtime back. He yawned as he continued to talk with Kokona.

"I am sorry once again," she said. Taro could imagine her bowing over the telephone. "It is just that. It is just, oh well it is nothing." Taro could tell by the sound of her voice that she was lying.

"Look, Kokona," said Taro, "If you feel that you can't talk over the phone, do you want to meet elsewhere?"

"Yes," she said quickly that Taro felt her vibration from the receiver. "Want to meet at the usual spot?"

"That's cool," said Taro. Taro looked at his watch and thought he could spare some time. "I will be out in 10. Is that cool?"

"Okay," she said before hanging up the phone.

Eight minutes later, Taro stepped out of his apartment and entered the foyer where the elevator was located. Normally, he would take the stairs to get to the destination. But, at this particular juncture, he was expecting a guest.

She and Taro were neighbors. She lived on the eighth floor whereas he lived on the second floor. She and Taro became neighbors after he moved to the complex nearly eight months ago. The abundance of medical treatment and payments for his father caused them to foreclose their home. Since then, they have live at the apartment complex.

He heard the sound of the bell, followed by the speaker of "second floor." The door opened and out came a young woman that looked close to Taro's age. She had light purple spiky bangs that accompanied her drill pigtails. Her eyes were light purple. She had beautiful fair skin and had a very large bust size, which was a burden to her and a blessing to the men and envious women.

She was sporting an athletic sweatshirt and mini-skirt with black leggings. It appeared to she was going to more of a causal date that was in contrast to what Taro was wearing. He was sporting a white t-shirt with blue jeans. Although the weather was cool, he liked the feeling of the coolness exposed to his skin. Without saying a word, he walked inside of the elevator and it closed behind him.

The tiny cafe huddled despondent among the the huge apartment buildings. Washed out under the overcast sky, it hunched in itself, fighting against the drizzle. On the busiest of evenings, hundreds of people rushed by it, outside on the crowded street. The few customers glanced up as the door swung open, heralded by a blast of the cool wind. Unlike the outside, the interior of the cafe was warm and cheery, with bright lights and colorful walls. The customers returned to their conversations as the door swung closed behind the new, but familiar entrants and the cold breeze was forgotten.

The waitress greeted the pair as they were placed in a booth. She held her pad to take their order looked like the kind who knew the trick of the trade of the restaurant business. She was older. She had gray hair with a hint of brown. Her eyes were her highlight. It was a deep shade of a green like a deep, enchanted pool. She politely asked them of their order. Taro asked for two coffees. He wanted his black and Kokona, with cream and two sugars. He quietly thanked her as she walked to get his order. Neither of the duo were avid coffee drinkers, but something about drinking it gave them an edge of their budding adulthood.

The pair met eyes, but neither had yet to speak. It became routine as he did this with her whenever they meet at the cafe. When the pair were at school, they spoke in passing; with Kokona doing more of the speaking and Taro waving or passing her a glance. Kokona Haruka was a social butterfly at their school. She was very friendly and vibed with everyone, regardless of social hierarchy.

At eighteen years old, the young Kokona has experience a great deal of trials and tribulations. At the age of 8, she lost her mother to cancer. In the same year, she lost her grandmother to suicide as she was distraught from never accepting her daughter's death. Since her mother's death, her father became an alcoholic, causing him to forgo his parental value. She went into foster care when she was 10 and was in-and-out of group homes because of her wild behavior.

It was until she was 16 when she was able to return to her father. Her father, then sober and employed, did what he could to get his daughter back in line. Despite rebelling against his stern nature, she eventually gave in. Her behavior have changed and shifted for the better. It wasn't until her father became involved with a woman who turned out to be swindler. The woman robbed her father and drained all of his savings. Once again, he turned to the bottle for his comfort.

Because of her father's return to alcoholism, she resorted to measures that she felt she had no other choice. It was rumored that she was involved in compensation dating, an ongoing trend to young girls in Japan. Because of her involvement, it is said that she go on dates with older men and exchanged her used panties for cash or gifts. Then has been rumors that she has engaged in sex. She has neither denied it or confirmed it. However, the only people who knew of this was her best friend, Saki Miyu and Taro.

On one conversation, she openly admitted to being involved with compensation dating to help her father with debts. She doesn't enjoy those activities, but she knew it was the fastest way of helping her father. Taro didn't judge her for he felt she had to do whatever was necessary for her sake. _I'm not God and I am neither a judge or a jury. Everybody has a stone,_ he once told her in a conversation.

On these few occasions, Taro was looked upon by Kokona as a shoulder buddy. She needed someone to listen to her without feeling judged or criticized. He didn't feel he was a suitable person to come for advice, but he was always available when he felt she needed support.

"Here are your coffees, kids," responded the waitress as she put the coffees on the table. They both bowed as the waitress excused herself. Taro took the coffee and drank as the warmth soothe him. Once he finished drinking, he was ready to talk.

"Okay, Kokona, let's talk," said Taro as if he was preparing business. Kokona took another sip with her coffee before putting it back on the table. She used the spoon to stir her coffee. Taro knew that she would only do that when she has something heavy on her chest.

"Thank you for seeing me on short notice," said Kokona.

"No worries," said Taro, "I am here to do whatever I can to help."

"You have always been a helpful person, senpai," said Kokona, "That is why I come to you."

Taro was used to being called _senpai_ by his younger peers. It was weird when hearing it from students of the same grade. She was not the person to refer him by that name. With many people calling him that that it became sort of a nickname. It didn't matter to him because he rather to be known as senpai than anything that was vulgar.

She pressed her nails into her skin. She had a smug look on her face. Taro could tell that she was afraid to talk. "Take your time. There is no rush for me to know. If not, then later. Until then, we can relax and drink our coffee." He believed in structure when talking to people. Don't rush your words or your thoughts, he thought. He believed in rationality over emotions because emotional decisions could be damning, at least that was what he thought.

"I am afraid that my father might be deeper than what he is letting on," she said. "I fear that my father might be in debt with some loan sharks from the yakuza."

"The yakuza," asked Taro. He was a bit puzzled by the response. There was a small gang presence in the town, but most of them were lowlifes and delinquents. The likeability of her father being involved in the yakuza was little to none. Unless, he was involved in some serious gambling.

"What makes you think that your father was involved in such a group," asked Taro.

"Well, the other day as I headed home, a black sedan was following me," she said. "I kept walking a few blocks and it was slowly creeping on me. I got scared that I ran until I got to my apartment. I locked the door until my dad came home."

"That is scary," responded Taro. He looked at Kokona's face as her face furrowed, showing wrinkles. "What did your father have to say?"

"What could he say," said Kokona as she sipped another drink of coffee. "Half the time, he is pissed drunk on the floor or the other, he would be at pachinko clubs pissing our savings."

Kokona looked around the cafe to make sure no one was listening to their conversation. "I am seeing strange men outside of the complex."

Taro agreed with Kokona. Since the entertainment district has been expanded outward to their neighborhood, there have been people scouring the place looking for "talent."

"Last night, when I came home from my 'thing,' I was met by two people who were waiting outside of the elevator," said Kokona. "They asked me if Yuusuke was my father. I told them no as I went in the elevator. Thank God I prayed because I was fearful that they would do something bad to me."

Kokona has kept a tough demeanor. Although she was sensitive, she was far from weak. On her best days, she would verbally attack someone instantly. She was not much of a fighter, but she took a self-defense class. She even kept a bottle of pepper spray around her waist.

"This is getting scary and it worries me, Taro," said Kokona with her pleading eyes. "What do you I should do? Should I involve the police? Should I involve my father?"

Taro reached for the coffee and saw that the cup was empty. He knew exactly how the cup felt: empty. He did not what to do to help her. If it were up to him, he wish he didn't get involved. However, going against his nature, he needed to be solution oriented.

"First, I wouldn't jump to conclusions on what if your father is getting involved in such a group like the yakuza," said Taro. "You should be concerned about his alcoholism and his gambling. He needs to get some help. Both vices are harmful and effects could be irreversible if not careful. He needs to take top priority and that is raising you."

He exhaled through his nose as he continued. "I am not going to judge on any factor on what goes on in your life because I am not God. But, it is best that you and your father need to address the issues on both ends. His problems and your situation with you-know-what."

Kokona swallowed nothing for she knew exactly what he was talking about.

"You have been through a lot. I think you two need to remind yourselves of staying positive and sticking together. Think about the future," said Taro.

"That is why I like you, senpai," said Kokona, "You always know what to say. You tell it like it is."

_Not always, Kokona, not always._ He mind focused on a bedeviled childhood friend.

As they made their way back to the apartment complex, Kokona wrapped her arms around Taro. Taro smelled her cheap perfume, which he didn't like. But her shampoo was compensating the scent. "It is amazing, senpai, that you have a great ideology on life. You should be a professor or something."

"Not really, but I do what to be involved in something riveting," said Taro.

"Like what," asked Kokona.

"I don't know," replied Taro.

"As smart as you are, senpai, you will find something," said Kokona.

It was not long until he was in front of Kokona's apartment door. Before he departed, she grabbed him by his arm. "Thanks, senpai, for everything."

"Don't mention it, Kokona," he said. "If worse comes to worse, you can spend the night at my house, if you like."

"I might take you up on your offer," she said. She waved him goodbye and closed the door.

Taro appreciated and valued Kokona's acquaintanceship, but she could be a handful. The problem he felt Kokona had was that she allowed others to influence her. Having a lot of friends doesn't mean it was a good thing. Having everyone to have an availability of one's life can become very fatal, socially. He was grateful that Kokona had some decency to keep her private life where it belong. If the school knew of her secret life, then he knew she would be targeted the boys at school. At private schools like his, a reputation is a reputation for years to come. There was no some such thing as a clean slate. The past included the present and the future. That was why Taro did his best to stay out of the loop. Once in his astronomy class, he was asked if he were a planet, where would he belong. He told him Pluto. It was out of the way and no longer a planet.

He made his way back into the apartment when he received a phone call. It was an unfamiliar number. When he answered, it was the voice of his homeroom teacher.

"Good evening," responded Takahashi-sensei, "Is this the number of Taro Yamada?"

"Yes ma'am," said Taro, "This is he."

"Good evening, Mr. Yamada," replied Takahashi-sensei, "Sorry for calling so late. Is this a good time?"

"No ma'am, you are fine," said Taro.

Taro has never felt this kind of excitement before. This was a new feeling that he was doing his hardest to become familiar. It was not everyday that his favorite poet was his teacher and now she was on the phone with him.

"Good," she said. "I am calling about tomorrow's meeting. It has been changed."

"Changed," he asked. He feared that the meeting may not happen. He whispered a prayer in hopes that he could have a moment with Takahashi-sensei.

"Yes, Mr. Yamada," she said. "You see, the school decided to get pest control on the same time we supposed to meet. So I am unable to meet you there."

"Oh, okay," he said, trying his hardest to keep the sound of disappointment from his voice.

"However, I still want to meet with you," she said. "How do you feel if we talk over dinner?"

"Dinner? I would love to," said Taro. Taro was filled with excitement. So much so, he nearly dropped his phone. "Dinner? We can do that."

"Good, I am glad," said Takahashi-sensei. "I am in the mood for Italian. There is a spot that sells some of the best rotini in town. I think we can share Italian and poetry together. How does that sound?"

"Great," said Taro. "I will see you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," she concurred. "I will come and pick you up from your place around 6."

"6 o'clock," he said. "See you then."

"See you then, my spring chicken," said Takahashi-sensei before hanging up.


	4. The Nearness of You (Part I)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taro goes down memory lane on his fondness of poetry and music before realizing he was late for his dinner date. See what happens next in this latest chapter.

Taro's first memory dated back when he was two years old. His mother was sitting on her rocking chair. His mother used that rocking chair when she wanted moments for herself. That cedar chair was a wedding gift that her mother received from her father. He had it shipped from Singapore where he was stationed during World War II. He remembered how his mother would rest her eyes and move with the rocking of the chair. With each stroke of the shifts, it became a rhythm that even Taro made a beat with his hands to match the rhythm. Beside the rocking chair was a mantle where she had her record player. The record player she brought while she was a student in America came along with a treasure trove of music from various of genres.

Taro's mother had a precocious taste in music, which she stated that her mother and her mother's mother had. Whenever she had free time or wanted a stress reliever, she would put on a record. Taro remembered one particular record that caught his interest once he heard the sound of the needle drop onto the record.

_Stars shining bright above you_

_Night breezes seem to whisper, I love you_

_Birds singin' in the sycamore trees_

_Dream a little dream of me_

With his inability of understanding English at the time, he, however, became entranced to the woman's vocals. The way she sang he thought came from the heart. Like a classical lullaby, he swung his head and went along with the tune. He crawled to the record player and sat beside it as he was caught in the serenade of the gifted musical siren.

'Oh, I see that my little one is loving my Ella Fitzgerald record,' said his mother as she patted her hand on her lap. The young Taro knew that it was their signal to have their mother and son bonding. He climbed onto her lap to where he and his mother sat together and enjoyed the soothing sounds of Ella Fitzgerald.

Taro's newly found passion for poetry and books doesn't compare to his first love, music. Since the early days of Ella Fitzgerald, Taro took a great interest in American music. His mother had a record collection stored in the attic. Her versatility of music gave Taro an opportunity to expand his musical interest. He became more adapted to the music of the sixties. He always imagined living in an era of Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, or the Beatles. Although his mother wasn't raised in that era, she collected through second hand record shop during her vacation to New York's Greenwich Square and Chelsea.

Blowing the dust off of the records became alive as Taro sat in his bedroom listening to the records. Any time he felt stress, excitement, anger, love, or embarrassment, he would be in his bedroom listening to music. It was more apparent when he was in middle school. It was around that time when he accepted his personality was atypical to his peers and became a loner. However, in a way, he was not lonely. He had his music and begrudgingly, he had Osana.

Osana Najimi was born and raised in this town. Her family had lived here for many generations. Her father stated that allegedly his family were the original pioneers of the town after relocating from the colony of Edo. Her father worked in a large brokerage firm and was also involved in politics. He had unsuccessfully run for mayor on multiple occasions before settling for being a neighborhood representative. Her mother was a typical housewife. She was the kind that was modeled after the wives of the Showa era. She was devoted to her husband and her family. She was the individual who knew her place without contesting it.

Taro and Osana met when he transferred to her school in the third grade. Since she was a few months older than Taro and according to her rules in determining seniority, that made her the boss and his senpai. Not only were they classmates, they were also neighbors; living next door to each other in neat little row houses that faced south of the town's business district and about a half a mile away from the river. Although some row houses were bigger than others, it had the similar distinction of entranceways, pine trees in the garden, and the single car driveway. Taro distinctly remembered how old-fashioned Osana's house was because of the large fish pond and the old stone lanterns.

Osana was a large girl, who was taller than Taro, with striking features. Even Taro knew when Osana grew up, she would become a gorgeous woman. However, her striking outer features contrasted her inner qualities. It gave her an unbalance because of her hostile attitude toward others, especially to Taro. Adopted as the school beauty, she had taken the role seriously and felt invincible; needing no one to confirm her beauty. She was quite desirable and quite untouchable, using the latter euphemistically.

After a while, especially at the beginning of fifth grade, the role of school beauty soon faded away when an equally attracted girl entered the school. With the new girl's inner qualities matched her outer as a beautiful and honest girl, the days of popularity for Osana were now an aberration.

Nevertheless, Taro was the only person and friend who had stuck around her. Taro has yet to answer on why did he stay friends with her for as long as he did. She was very rude and acted harsh around Taro at any moment's notice. Many of their classmates had criticized her on how poorly she treated Taro. But, each and every time, Taro came to her defense. He believed that they were friends for so long because they knew how empty they both were. He thought about her unbalance and understood it because he as well know the feeling.

Taro had yet to find his spot in the world as he felt the void opening further and further each day. Although he had his music, but it wasn't enough to suffice it until he could figure out his purpose.

As they were neighbors, they both walked home together every day after school. As a natural conversationalist, Osana would talk about anything. Honestly, they were more of complaints than the usual topic of a typical preteen. Taro, as always, stayed quiet and played the role of the traveling therapist about whatever went on Osana's mind. As much he wanted to express his true feelings to Osana, he remained silent and hid behind his bangs as they made it to their homes. She would wave goodbye and the whole process repeat all over again.

Their relationship grew as they entered middle school. They have different homerooms, but she ordered Taro to wait for her at the school's entrance before departing for the day. As they walked home, she talked about the subjects she liked or hated; what boy had a crush on her; the dislike of her teachers; trying out for the student council; and the like. Like always, Taro remained quiet and let her talk until they made their way to their homes. She would wave goodbye and the whole process repeated the next day.

It wasn't until they were in the eighth grade while Taro and Osana walked the three-mile stretch of dirt road home until she just stopped. As Taro kept walking, she pulled him by the hand. Taro would never forget how flushed she was; red like a tomato. Her eyes were glazed and her hands were wrapped in a fist. Taro knew she had a rough personality, but never once had she displayed any other emotion.

'If you want to stop being friends with me, then just say so,' said Osana as she looked away from him.

'What are you talking about,' asked Taro as he was confused in her questioning.

'If you are friends with me because you feel sorry for me, then just stop it,' she said. Her face was flushed a deep beet red. Her eyes were watering. Taro could feel the heat from where he was standing. 'I don't have to be around people if all they do is just let me talk. I can be fine by myself.'

Taro was silent. He honestly did not know what to say. Although he wished that Osana complained less, he never looked at their friendship as conditional.

'You don't have to feel sorry for me. You don't have to stay friends with me,' said Osana as tears stemmed from her eyes. Why so much repetition of words, Taro thought. As he saw her tear-stained face and it dripped to her uniform. It was the first time that he had witnessed Osana having another emotion-sadness.

Taro cautiously walked up to her. He took her by the hand, but it was quickly snatched away. She turned around so that she didn't have to look at him. 'Just go away, you baka. Go away and let me be.'

'No,' said Taro very firmly and sternly. Surprised by his sense of sternness and assertiveness, he went behind her and wrapped his arms around her. Taro pressed his forehead against her back as he continued to wrap his arms tightly around her waist.

'Let me go, you baka. Let me go,' she said as she struggled. She repeatedly protested and struggled to get off of Taro, but he refused to let her go. She managed as much as she could before going to her knees and begin sobbing. 'Let me go, you baka,' she said in between sobs. 'Leave me like everybody else.'

Taro discovered something that day about Osana. Osana consciously wrapped herself in a protective shell. She shielded herself from others by acting the way she did. If there was something that she did not like, she quickly alerted it. If there was food that she didn't like, she reported it to the headmaster. Overall, if it was something that Taro did or just him being in the room, she quickly became hostile. Those were the details that Taro discovered and decided not to go any further. Because just like Osana, he had a protective shell as well. That explained on why he stuck around with Osana. They were lost souls who have yet find a host. They were lost spirits that were looking for a purpose. Until they were able to find what they were looking for, they were going to remain lost.

At least as they embraced on the dusty road along the river, they were going to remain lost, together.

"Baka, are you there. Hello? Earth to baka. Are you there," said the rough, but gentle voice.

Taro blinked his eyes to look at his surroundings. He was not in his mother's lap or engaged in a dusty hug with Osana. He was in the classroom. It was empty. He saw the clock as he realized that school had ended for the day. He saw that Marcus Joseph and Osana were beside, awaiting his response.

"Caught up in dreamland, my friend," asked Marcus with a smirk.

"Something like that," said Taro.

"Did the dream involved you being such an idiot," asked Osana.

"No, but at least my dream was Osana-free," said Taro. "An Osana-free dream is better than having an Osana-filled nightmare." Taro kind of chuckled as Marcus laughed and Osana looked angry.

"Screw you, you baka," she said. "If you don't want to be friends with me, then say so."

"No," said Taro simply as he gathered his books and placed them into his backpack. For a second, he thought that her eyes quickly glared. Maybe it was a figment of his imagination.

Taro looked outside to see the sun waning down as the orange clouds were in the background. He saw his watch and realized that he had to get ready for his date with Takahashi-sensei. He had just about an hour to go home and take a shower. Just in case if the dinner was going to be a poetry session, he had set aside a book of poems for conversation starters. Until this encounter, Taro was very indifferent about events. However, this was the first time in awhile that it was something he was looking forward to.

He, Marcus, and Osana were by the lockers as they exchanged their school shoes for their outdoor shoes. A group of cheerleaders passed by them as they heading to practice. From Taro's peripheral, one of the cheerleaders caught sight of Marcus and winked at him as she passed, causing Marcus to blush.

Taro turned and smiled at Marcus. "Not a word," said Marcus as he was flushed. Taro started to grin. "I told you not a word, dude," said Marcus. "I didn't say a word," said Taro, "But you never mention about having a laugh."

"As much as I love this baka moment," said Osana with her hands on her hips, "What do you guys want to do?"

"I hear that there is a mixer with some of the other schools tonight at the drink bar," said Marcus as he put on his shoes. "Since there is no school tomorrow, we can hang out and mingle. We can also catch a movie or something afterward, if no one can find a date at the mixer."

"Mixers bore me," said Osana, "But I don't mind if you and Taro go."

"Sounds like a plan," said Marcus, "Sounds good, Taro?"

"I actually can't go with you guys, sorry," said Taro as finished putting his shoes on and grabbing his backpack. "I have plans tonight and it is best to head home before I miss the train."

There was a moment of silence. Taro looked at Marcus as he could tell that he was fine. However, as he saw the look on Osana's eyes, he knew that she was going to pester him with questions. He swallowed nothing as he prepared for her bombardment.

"Hey, that's cool, man," said Marcus. "Looks like it will be me and Osana."

"Like hell I am, you baka," screamed Osana. Her eyes then set on Taro. "Where are you going that is very important?"

Taro actually did not tell Osana that he was having a dinner date with their teacher. Although the pair were usually open about their activities, but it was something that he did not want her to know. Just like the day on the road when they were in junior high, he also had a protective shell. There were some things he wanted Osana to know and some things, not so much. Having the dinner date with Takahashi-sensei was just the latter.

"It is important and I won't say much," said Taro as he walked into the square of the school. Marcus and Osana proceeded to follow him as he made it to the exit of the school.

"At least explain on where you are going," asked Osana as she followed Taro.

"I am not saying," said Taro. "Just very important."

"Osana, if it is our none of our business, then it is none of our concern," said Marcus.

"The fuck you mean it is not my business," screamed Osana. "Everything about him is my business!"

"Why so difficult, Osana," said Marcus.

"Taro," she cried, "Where are you going?"

As she turned around, Taro was across the street on his way to the train station. Taro turned around and saw how she was screaming at Marcus. He was grateful that rush hour traffic was upon him or else he would have heard her ranting.

Taro reached the train station with a few minutes to spare. The train station was actually a subway. Nestled in the underground, it was erected a couple of years ago after the mayor's decision to convert the old train station into a new bus station.

The subway station was a seething mass of humanity. Everyone from every walk of life was shoulder to shoulder, in each other's faces, no personal space, no exceptions. When it's crowded no information could be taken about anyone, they are just things in the way. Moving, smelling, awkward, rude things. Taro loved how he was no different than the crowd. Like a pack of sardines, he watched them made their way into the tightly packed commuter train. He saw the train attendants with their whistles and white gloves displaying which line do commuters need to go.

_The Akamatsu line is now boarding and departing in five minutes._

He looked at the platform and on the screen, he saw his train line was boarding. He did not have much time and he made haste to get to his train. He wanted to make sure that he was able to get on time for his meeting with Takahashi-sensei.

Suddenly he heard a voice. "Where are you, baka? We have not finished our conversation yet."

Hearing Osana's voice irritated him as it was not the time for talk. With much urgency, he careful hid behind a crowd of office ladies as he tried to make it to his train. However, his backpack snag on the handle of the phone booth. As he struggled to manage to get his backpack from the handle, he became exposed, leaving Osana to see him from a distance.

"There you are. We are not finished yet," screamed Osana as she began walking into his direction.

"I don't have time, Osana," he said as he began running. As he ran, she followed suit. His running turned into sprinting as he maneuvered through the crowd. He was in a bidding pursuit with the time running out for his train and to get away from Osana Najimi.

"Slow down, you dummy," said Osana, "Can you at least tell me where you are going?"

"Not now," said Taro as he ran down another flight of stairs to get to his train. Taro was getting exhausted. Not an athlete, opting for watching the others to work out, he regrettably desired to work out more if he knew that this was going to be a task.

_The Akamatsu line has now boarded and departing._

Whatever strength Taro garnered, he sprinted to the platform of the station as he saw the attendants getting the last of the commuters into the subway.

 _I have to make this train. I have to make this damn train_ , he thought as he continued running. He was getting tired, his throat was getting dry. It was already difficult to run in a uniform, let alone his inactivity in sports. When he managed to get close to the train doors, a figure emerged, blind-siding him. He collided with the figure and was heading straight for the ground.

He watched in frustration and agony as the train departed without him. Instead of making the train, he made contact with the ground face first. He felt the force of the cold concrete hitting him in full force. He tried to catch his fall with his hands, but it made no avail, as those appendages too were among the causalities.

"Ouch," he said aloud. He silently cursed himself that he missed the train for his dinner date with Takahashi-sensei. He tried to rationalize his reasoning for not making it in time. _If I didn't daydream in class, I could have gotten there earlier_ or _If I would have cut my time short with Marcus and Osana, then I could have made it._ No matter what kind of scenarios, it didn't suffice to the fact that he did not make it.

As he managed to get up, he realized that he was atop of the figure. He quickly got up. He dusted himself off, still feeling his tender red hands from the fall. He looked over and saw that the figure was a girl.

When he realized he crashed into a girl, he bowed for an apology. "Please accept my apologies. Are you okay?"

The girl did not say a word. It appeared that she was in a trance. Her long black hair hid in front of her eyes. When she opened her eyes, it was a dark shade of gray. Once their eyes met each other, her face turned red. He, in return, became red also; mostly from embarrassment.

"I am sorry. I should have watched where I was going," said Taro as he bowed once again.

"No, it's okay." The girl said as she sat up from the platform. Taro was able to get a good look at the girl. She was very beautiful, not in a way of goddess, but the old-fashioned girl-next-door type of beautiful. He saw her uniform and realized that she attended the same high school as he did.

"Would you like a hand," said Taro as he stretched out his hand to the girl in distress. Without a word, she took his hand and managed to stand. However, she never let go of his hand. When Taro saw her eyes, he noticed how gray they were. It was very alluring and soft of macabre. Then, he also noticed a red sparkle coming from her eye. It was similar to what he saw from Takahashi-sensei on the first day she arrived to class.

"Thank you so much for helping me, Taro," said the girl.

His heart was beating. He felt his eyelids twitching. He started to feel sweat vacating his pores and onto his uniform.

"How do you know my name," he asked.

The girl looked and just smiled. Her smile spread from ear to ear. Her face looked like she was a predator who had caught her prey. His hands were shaking, his heart was beating faster, and he felt a nosebleed coming. He knew they were the tell-tale symptoms of the "attack."

"Taro Yamada, get over here this instant," screamed the loud and familiar voice of Osana. Upon hearing her voice, it stopped. It was as if the "attack" did not happen. He put his finger on his nose. No presence of a nosebleed. His hands still sting from his fall. Aside from that, it was as if the pending attack did not occurred.

Osana came from behind and wrapped her arms around him. "How many this do I have to tell you, baka," she screamed. "Stop where you going when you hear me." She then faced the mysterious girl. " Because of your stupidity, you ran into this girl. Know where you are going next time."

Taro did not say a word. He, first, was not going to apologize to Osana for his running away from her. However, his mind was still wrapped around the mysterious girl who knew his name.

"I knew your name because we go to the same school," answered the girl. She bowed as she introduced herself. "My name is Ayano Aishi."

"Hi, Ayano. Nice to meet you," said Taro as he bowed in return. "Sorry that I have bumped into you. And sorry for freaking out earlier."

"It is no problem," said Ayano as her eyes were still on his. He then realized that he had yet to let go of her hand. He took his hand away from her.

"As much as I love baka moments like this, but we have to go," said Osana as she began grabbing Taro.

"Where are we going," said Taro as he protested to Osana.

"Going to have a talk on why you are being such a dummy," said Osana.

"Last time I checked, I am 18 and don't need assistance," said Taro. "You don't always have to follow me."

"The hell I can't," protested Osana. "It isn't like I have to follow you or have you around. It is just that I don't want you to get lost or hurt someone else like her."

"Osana, I am okay, honest," said Taro.

"We are leaving now," said Osana.

Taro felt the strong grip of Osana's arm as they left the platform leaving Ayano behind. As he was leaving, he saw how her beautiful smile faded away.

As he walked away, his thoughts wrapped around his now later dinner plans with Takahashi-sensei, the encounter with the mysterious Ayano Aishi, and the usual conundrums of Osana Najimi.

The presence he felt in the classroom loomed around him again. Something was in the air other than fall and its plans were looking more absolute. Then the song by Ella Fitzgerald entered his mind.

_Stars shining bright above you_

_Night breezes seem to whisper, I love you_

_Birds singin' in the sycamore trees_

_Dream a little dream of me_

**_It's okay. Just relax. It's only natural. You do these things when you love someone._ **

"Something is going on and it is becoming weird. It is starting to freak me out. Please God, be with me," murmured Taro as he departed with Osana out of the train station.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hoped you are enjoying Eighteen so far. Please feel free to kudos and comment. I appreciate criticism and opinions of the story so far. My outlook for it is to not be the typical fanfiction of others. I want it to be from Taro's POV as well as the others. If you familiar with These Grey Skies (my previous story), then you will understand the premise. Thanks once again for reading. God bless!


	5. The Nearness of You (Part II)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After his encounter with Ayano Aishi and missing the train for his dinner with his teacher, Taro is stuck between a rock and a hard place. How can he manage to find an excuse for his tardiness to his teacher and dealing with Osana? Find out in the latest chapter of Eighteen!

The dialing tone was the only thing making noise as Taro sat on the toilet in the restroom of his job at the bookstore. With this particular restroom being for employees, he need that privacy to avoid Osana for a few minutes. Already aware of her impatience, he needed a little to dial his teacher about his tardiness to the restaurant. As it was still picking up, he worried about what kind of response would he received. It had barely been a couple of days since her arrival to his class and he wanted to give her a great impression. Two things about Taro that concern him the most: punctuality and making first impression. His father once told him that 'first impressions means everything. How you present yourself on the first go around will impact the rest of your career.' Uncertain on how true it could be, why take a chance? He had already developed a reputation as a loner, he just nothing else degrading his resume.

After a minute, the phone picked up. "Hello," said the voice from the other end. It was something her voice that appealed to Taro. It wasn't seductive, but it was very alluring. How concise and clear on the way she talked drew Taro nearer to her. It was the first time that someone beside music and books earned his attention; not since his early childhood days in elementary school.

"Hi, Takahashi-sensei," said Taro, trying his hardest to keep his composure. _Remain calm. Just relax and be yourself._ "This is Taro Yamada from your homeroom." Taro bit his lip as he noticed that his voice was shaky. He thought he sounded like a prepubescent child.

"Oh, of course, my spring chicken," said Takahashi-sensei as she laughed. "I knew exactly who this was. I saved your number in my contacts."

"Yeah, right," said Taro, "You must do that to all of your students?"

"No," said Takahashi-sensei simply. Taro felt how simple and how straightforward his teacher was. It was different and he liked it. "Just those I think I deem as special."

"Really," said Taro, "Anyway, I am calling because I am afraid I might be late to our dinner date."

There was a moment of silence from the receiver. Taro's stomach churned and his palm was sweating from the anticipation of her response. Will it be positive? Negative? Upsetting? He needed to know right away.

"Oh, dear, that does not sound good," replied Takahashi-sensei. "I really wanted to get to know more about you. That was why I wanted this to happen."

If the ceiling collapsed on itself, Taro did not mind. _My father was right. I have messed up and now she thinks I did not try hard enough to meet you,_ he thought.

"Where are you right now, Mr. Yamada?" Takahashi-sensei's voice was in form of curiosity and concern.

"I am at my job at the bookstore," answered Taro.

"I know exactly where to find you," said Takahashi-sensei. "Stay where you are. I will come and pick you up."

"I am not dressed. I am still in my school clothes," said Taro as he looked at himself. His uniform was dirty from the fall he had at the subway. He smelled his own perspiration on his clothes. He wanted to bathe so that he could be presentable. That was part of Taro's nature about punctuality and first impressions.

"That is fine, Mr. Yamada," said Takahashi-sensei. "Right now, I am leaving the gym. So, I am not at my best either. We are just having a chat is all."

Taro quietly thanked God along with a sigh of relief. "Great, I mean not in a sense of us being dirty. I mean I won't be alone. Umm, come as I am."

Taro face blushed as he felt the vibrations of her laughter coming from the other end. "Okay, Mr. Yamada. Wait there and I will be on my way. Give me about 30 to 45 minutes. Okay?"

"Great! See you then," said Taro as he bowed from the toilet.

He hanged up the phone as he wanted to scream from the top of his lungs. _I can't believe it! I am about to have dinner with one of my favorite poets! This is going to be amazing._

Suddenly, he abruptly stopped when he noticed his own excitement. _Remember, stay calm and relax. Rationalize your thoughts. Rationalization over emotions is the greater factor._ He took a few breaths before exiting the restroom.

As soon as he departed from the restroom, reality set in as he heard the rantings of Osana when her eyes darted at him. Like an invisible ribbon gravitating his force around him, he was pulled toward the direction of where Osana was seated.

The bookstore had a small cafe where patrons purchased coffee and snacks. At that particular time of the evening, the grey marbled corner would be filled with patrons. However, with a holiday approaching, it was empty. Nevertheless, the sweet aroma of coffee filled the area along with the citrus fragrance looming from the flowers his boss had recently purchased. At its only booth, next to the window exposing the garden district, sat Osana with her eyes set on him. For the many years, he had known her, he now learn to ignore her rantings. Today was one of those days as he sat in the booth across from her.

"It took you long enough," said Osana. She had her elbows on the table. She rested her chin on her palms, with her eyes yet to leave Taro's sight. Taro looked her eyes as it matched her personality. A bruised ego, he thought. He remained questioning on why was he still friends with her.

"Sorry, had to take care of business," replied Taro as he looked at the menu.

She looked at the menu and he watched her eyes fixed on a certain item. "Do they sell good macarons here?"

"Yeah, they do. The best if you ask me."

"Then why not order me some for the table."

"Why do I have to pay?"

"One, you are a baka. And two, you owe me for chasing you early."

"You are still bent on that?"

"Damn straight, I am. What could have happened if you got lost or hurt yourself?"

"Osana, this is a small town. Worst case, I would have been back around in an hour or an hour and a half."

"Well, excuse me, you baka. Sometimes, I think you are a shit for brains."

 _At least I could flush shit down the toilet without having it to talk to me like that._ That was what he actually wanted to tell Osana. However, not wanting to expose his true feelings, he opted for something subtle. "I will pay you back with these macarons and we can call it even. Deal?"

"Deal," said Osana as her frustration went away. Taro did not like how ingrained her wrinkles were when she furrowed her eyebrows. He had always thought she had pretty eyebrows. Everything about her was pretty. Time after time, he wanted to express himself about her personality, then he thought about her protective shell. He was not better than what she was. And it always answered his question on their longevity of friendship: birds of a feather flock together.

"Easy now, kids. You know it is bad luck for kids to talk like that," said the gentle-voiced woman.

Both turned and saw the older woman that was Taro's boss. She wiped her hands gently on her red-and-white checkered tattered apron as she approach the pair. She rested her eyes as she began scratching her forehead. "You need to quit worrying about silly things, kids. Worrying can bring wrinkles. Especially to you, young lady." She winked at Osana which made her blushed. She looked away from Taro's boss and faced the window.

"What can I help you with today, dear," asked Taro's boss as she remained smiling at him.

"I would like to have one of your finest macarons, ma'am, please," said Taro.

"Right away," said the boss. Before she walked away, she asked, "Would you care for something to drink?"

"Sure! What is today's special," asked Taro.

"Well, we have the blackberry oolong tea and the hot cocoa with peppermint," replied the boss.

"I think I will take the blackberry oolong tea," said Taro. "What about you, Osana?"

She was still looking away at the window. She sharply glared at Taro. "I will take what you have."

"Oh dear, I think you should try the hot cocoa with peppermint," said the boss while looking at Osana.

"How come," she said faintly.

"Because it matches your personality: feisty, yet sweet," said the boss as she chuckled.

"Very funny," replied Osana. "Fine! Give me whatever it was."

"Excellent! Be right back," said the boss. The boss walked in a cheery fashion as she began humming a tone.

When the boss walked into the kitchen, Osana scoffed loudly. Not loud enough where anyone else could hear, but within the proximity of the table.

"Your boss is _peachy_ ," said Osana with a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

"She means well. Plus, she is really cool once you get to know her," replied Taro.

A few moments later, the bell clinked as more patrons entered the bookstore. They were college-aged students, mostly female who appeared that they came out of class from the local community college that was a few blocks away. Soon, laughter filled the room as Taro and Osana awaited their order.

"To think that is going to be us soon," said Taro.

"Yeah, true," said Osana.

"Have you been looking at universities yet?"

"I have. Hokkaido and Kyoto have taken interest in me. I even got an invitation from a school in Nagasaki."

"I have looked at schools, but I want to stay local."

"Why? Is it because your grades are average and your baka brain can't handle the load?"

"No, Osana, that is not it. It is because. It is because…."

"Because of what?"

"It is because of my dad."

Osana faced changed upon hearing those words. Her eyes shifted to his hands as she noticed it was shaking. Taro's issue with his father has been a sensitive subject.

"How has your father been holding up," asked Osana as she thumped her fingers on the table.

"He is okay. He has been better," replied Taro.

It was true about his father's disposition. Since the car accident, his father has been optimistic as possible. He knew that he was forever paralyzed and unable to walk again. Nevertheless, he focused on the positive. It was a raining that fateful day when his father took his daily commute home from work. As he approached an intersection, another vehicle adjacent from him lost control of his vehicle and collided at his vehicle at full force. The wreck involved two other vehicles as well as that particular vehicle burst into flames. It was fortunate that other drivers pulled his father from the wreckage, or else his father would have been among the dead.

His father survived the crash, as well as the others involved in the crash. Unfortunately, the driver who caused the crash died at the scene. Taro would never forget the day of his father's crash. It was a day that was supposed to be filled with excitement. It was the day of his 17th birthday.

He couldn't forget that day at the hospital upon learning the news of his father's accident. His sister, Hanako, was in tears whereas his mother remained calm. A calm and faithful person, his mother prayed for her husband's safety. His father was grateful to be alive. First, he told his family that he would not take anything for granted. Second, he wanted to be more dedicated to his family. Finally, he looked at Taro from the hospital bed and encourage him and his younger sister to strive for the best.

As much Taro wanted to go to an achieving university, he couldn't help but to stay behind and take care of his father. He kind of felt responsible for his father's crash. He questioned on numerous scenarios of what if he didn't sign the form to attend that prestigious high school.

Despite losing their home and their vehicle, his father reminded him that those things were just objects. He consistently reminded Taro that family was the main importance and being successful as well, not financially, but spiritually, physically, and mentally. Those abidings were part of Taro's core-family.

"If it is still a sensitive subject, then I won't talk about it," said Osana.

"No, it is fine. He is doing okay I was saying," said Taro. "He may can't walk again or do things easily, but he has hope. I can't help but to say that."

"How has your mom and Hanako been," asked Osana.

"They are doing fine. Mom has been super busy lately with work. Hanako hates her new school. Yet again, she never liked school," said Taro. "It is really because I am not there and she misses me the most."

"Your sis is such a brocon," said Osana. She had a conniving smile on her face. It sort of agitated Taro, but it was one of those qualities that made Osana cute. "I couldn't agree any more with you," he replied.

"I miss those guys. It is not the same since you left," said Osana. "My mom misses her talks with your mom. My dad enjoyed the golf games they played."

"It isn't like they are dead. They can always come and see them. We don't live that far," said Taro.

Osana tilted her head. Osana's body language was enough for Taro to understand the hidden agenda between the upper class and the lower class. Stay with your kind.

The boss arrived at the table. On the tray were the sweet scented macarons. The steam could be seen from it. She placed it at the center of the table. She then return and gave them their drinks. The blackberry oolong tea was placed in tall glass with a straw. The hot cocoa with peppermint was put in a wine glass. On top was whipped cream.

"How did you know I like it with whipped cream," asked Osana as she looked surprised. "I didn't even ask for it."

"Just a guess," said the boss, "Enjoy!"

The pair said their blessings before they partook the precious dessert. Osana took the first bite and her eyes lit like a Christmas tree.

"This is delicious!"

"Told you!"

"Who made this? I must know the chef."

"They say that a group of gnomes from the eighth dimension of hell made this. Might be one of your relatives."

"Screw you, you baka!"

"As much as you say it, I am beginning to wonder."

"You ba-. You, you. You won this round, for now."

"So, I win another one. Yay me."

The macarons were finished. The only proof of its existence were the crumbs left on the table and on the plate. Osana sipped her drink as Taro finished the last of his drink. Drinking the daily special became a tradition he created since visiting the bookstore. It was something that he added to the quirkiness. On warmer days, the veranda was open to allow readers to enjoy their drinks along with their foods. He didn't used the veranda because he thought he had no reason. But something about today made him wish that he did. Taro shrugged as he concluded that he had to wait until it was warm again.

"Since it is a holiday tomorrow, what do you want to do," asked Osana.

"Regardless of what _I_ say, it will be _your_ choice."

"You know me like a book. Seems like my training is working, you baka."

"Yeah, training."

"I was thinking that you, me, and Marcus go into town to visit the aquarium. Then, we should go to the movies or go to the drink bar and sing karaoke. Afterward, we should grab dinner..."

While Taro was listening to Osana, someone or something was trying to grab his attention. He slightly looked at the window. He watched the once empty square filled with visitors of the evening. The crowd attracted more of older teenagers and young adults. There were a small amount of families that have their kids ventured through the square. That particular area of the garden district included a shopping center, a restaurant, and a small neighborhood park that included a koi pond and a small garden shrine.

He shifted his head because he saw something was standing in the midst of the crowd. Once he fixated his eyes, he saw the figure. It was a woman. Her face was covered in a black veil. He saw that there was a white mask that covered her face behind the veil. She was very black gothic, Lolita clothing. Unable to tell what she looked like, but her appearance was beautiful. Her legs were clad in black high heel boots. Her dress was long and frilly as it extended to the ground. The sleeves were long as it dripped over her hand. Her long black hair flew in the wind like a river of silk. What completed the set was her hands were in black gloves and she was holding a bouquet of black roses.

He wondered why the crowd did not notice the mysterious girl as she stood across from the bookstore. She stayed in the position for a few minutes. Then the girl slowly moved her hand and pointed her finger at the window. His heart leaped as he knew she was staring directly at him.

He was hearing the ring coming from his ears. Knowing he was in a public place, he did his best to keep calm, especially with Osana. When he turned to Osana, she continued talking. There was a problem. He could not hear anything was coming from her mouth. Suddenly, everything around him went silent.

When he faced the window, the mysterious figure pressed her face against the window. Taro jolted at the surprise he received. What she did next scared Taro. She pulled out a tube of red lipstick and began drawing on the window. She continued to draw as he heard the rubbing of the lipstick making contact with the window. It was a excruciating sound, but he was curious to know what was happening. When she was finished, Taro saw that it was a shape of a heart. What she did next was drawing a triangle with a line dissecting the triangle. It was the the symbol of the umbrella that paired lovers.

Taro looked in horror as the masked stranger point at him and then at herself. She took off her mask, and then slowly lifted her veil. With only her lips being seen, she licked the lipstick drawing and then kissed on the window facing his direction. He heard her spoke.

_Come play with me, Taro. Follow me this way, Taro. It is okay. I won't hurt you. We will play a game. Do you like games, Taro? Taro? Taro? Taro?_

"Taro? Taro? Are you even listening to me, you baka," asked Osana.

Taro was still in a dazed until a flick of a finger to his head immediately returned Taro to reality.

"I am right, you dummy. There is no way you can live without me," said Osana with a hint of satisfaction from her voice.

Taro rubbed his head as he felt the cold, dripping sweat coming down. He closed his eyes as he wanted to know if this was real or not. Taro questioned on where was these strange occurrences coming from. He did not feel like that since back when he was in the third grade when he was in the forest.

_What is happening to me? Why is it happening to me? My head is throbbing like crazy and it is scaring the hell out of me. These "attacks" are more frequent than usual. More importantly, why now? There is something in the atmosphere and it is scaring me. Why am I having these words coming at me? Why am I thinking about the forest? I tried my hardest to not think about that day. To be honest, I don't even remember what happened that day. I was walking up the steps and I was going into the main area. Then, suddenly, blink._

A buzz from his cell phone vibrating in his pocket interrupted his thought as he saw that it was Takahashi-sensei.

"Hello," answered Taro.

"Hello, my spring chicken. I am outside in the parking lot waiting for you," said Takahashi-sensei, "Are you ready?"

"Yes, yes I am," said Taro. "I am on my way."

"Can't wait," said Takahashi-sensei as she chuckled before hanging out.

Taro put the phone from his pocket. He saw that Osana looked confused about what happened a few moments ago.

"Sorry, Osana, but I have to go."

"Where are you going?"

"Taking care of business, Osana."

"At least where?"

"No time," responded Taro as he placed the money on the table before leaving. Before leaving he turned to Osana. "We should hang out tomorrow. A great idea!" He left Osana at the table and walked out of the bookstore. Before he left, he texted Takahashi-sensei to meet him on the opposite end of the garden district.

Taro was the kind of individual who believed in discretion. Although he was looking at Takahashi-sensei as his poet, but she was still a teacher. Teacher to student relationship, outside of school, were strictly forbidden. If the school, the students, or Osana were to discover, then they would be in trouble. What surprised Taro was that there was no opposition or even apprehension coming from her. She did not have any reservations about it. He paid it no mind, but it was still peculiar.

He approached the desolate parking lot on the opposite end of the garden district where Takahashi-sensei awaited his arrival. As he arrived, he saw a blue sports convertible. A beautiful model vehicle needed a better background than the parking lot. The door opened and out came Takahashi-sensei in her gym clothes.

She wearing a purple jumpsuit with a purple jacket. The outfit was very tight as it carved into her attractive features. Her hair was wrapped in a ponytail and she was wearing glasses. Taro was very surprised about her appearance, but she looked attractive even out of her work clothes.

"Mr. Yamada, glad to see you," said Takahashi-sensei.

"Hi, Takahashi-sensei," responded Taro. "Thank you for finding me and picking me up."

"No problem. The pleasure is all mine."

"Cool!"

The pair stare for a couple of seconds before Takahashi-sensei went to the car.

"Put your backpack in the back seat and hop on in," said Takahashi-sensei.

Taro walked into the car and closed the door behind him.

"So, are you ready to have fun this poet," asked Takahashi-sensei.

"Looking forward to it," said Taro.

The blue convertible left the parking lot and enter the main street before leaving the horizon. As the car departed, a shadow emerged, overlooking the now empty parking lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have received my first bookmark. Awesome! Didn't expect to get a small following this quickly. Thank you for your support. To my readers who came from These Grey Skies, welcome! I hope I don't disappoint on this story. Continue to comment and kudos. Thanks! God bless!


	6. Stray House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taro takes a ride with his teacher, Mitsuko Takahashi. What things might happen between the pair? Find out in this latest chapter of Eighteen!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is another chapter of Eighteen. I hope you all enjoy this chapter! Thanks!

The jagged wind pushed on the car to no avail. The car was going forward and nothing but a blessed tragedy could change that. The tires of the convertible made their monotonous hiss over the sun-bleached highway and the air that made its way through the filters were bittersweet. All around the highway, through the tinted windows, was open fields. Inside that tin box destined for the horizon, the world outside continued like some choreographed dance, but without the soul it should have. Was there a reason under the sun that no one could stop and walk barefoot in the grass and feel the cool air of autumn? Was there no one that could hold up a brave hand and say stop? There was none because neither party wanted to stop the venturous ride.

Takahashi-sensei fiddled with the radio to fill their ears with the latest popular tunes, from the new pop idols. Taro wished that Japanese DJs would catch up with the westerners and put on some soothing sounds of Jimi Hendrix, The Alan Parsons Project, Queen, or Kansas. But instead, he had to suffice for the latest pop idols that would fade away like Tamagotchis and mood rings. They were a dime-a-dozen to him. Young teenage heartthrobs, discovered at the mall or at a venue, signed a contract to perform a few songs, and then virtually disappear for another teenage sensation. The latter were the things of the past, but music that Taro could blend his emotions in, that was forever.

He sat in the plush seat of his teacher's convertible as she shifted gears through the highway. He watched how she did it without incident. She was careful to maintain composure as the speedometer went the speed that was higher than his class grades. He noticed how she was concentrating. He watched her fingertips glided on the steering wheel. He peered through the tinted windows as they ventured away from his domicile. He knew that they had already passed the Italian restaurant, but he never asked where they were going. For some reason, he did not want to. He had never felt that way in quite some time. He knew there was a destination. It was the journey that made the difference. As she drove with her intentions to that destination, he could see that she was on a mission and its name was desire.

The sun disappeared onto the horizon and the moon, accompanied by the stars, reclaimed its sky, for its short time. Nighttime stretched into the sky from the daytime they left behind. Except with his parents or on school trips, this was the first time Taro traveled alone in the night. Of course, he wasn't alone, but the feeling was quite foreign. He questioned what made accept the offer of riding in a car with a complete stranger that was his teacher. Quite whimsical, he thought, but something in his subconsciousness yearned for that adventure. Something in his spirit told him to go with Takahashi-sensei. Regardless of his choice, he sat back and went alone with the ride.

This was the first time that Taro has ever left town since his father's accident. Regardless that his parents were natural homebodies, they promised their children one vacation each year. With their savings they collected throughout the year, the family traveled to onsens, amusement parks, and the beach. His favorite beach was in Miyazaki. There was nothing particular or extraordinary about the beach, he just loved its simplicity. There, he sat and watched Honoka build sand castles with their mother; and their father lying on a towel to catch up with his mystery novels. It was simple, but it was something that Taro could cherish. Since the accident, all of their savings were spent on his father. He made a silent promise that he was going to save his money to give him and his family another vacation. Once he could afford it, he would return to the Miyazaki beach.

_Know'st thou not at the fall of the leaf_

_How the heart feels a languid grief_

_Laid on it for a covering,_

_And how sleep seems a goodly thing_

_In Autumn at the fall of the leaf?_

The sultry voice interrupted Taro's train of thought. He listened as Takahashi-sensei recited a poem. From what he remembered, it was about autumn, his favorite time of year. It was because of autumn that met his favorite poet at that time. It was autumn that caused him to be where he was in this current predicament. He relaxed as he continued listening to his private poetry session for two.

_And how the swift beat of the brain_

_Falters because it is in vain,_

_In Autumn at the fall of the leaf_

_Knowest thou not? and how the chief_

_Of joys seems not to suffer pain?_

He clung to every word she released from the sultry poem. If poetry was pollen, then he was the bee. Because he wanted to hear more of what Takahashi-sensei was saying. As she was driving, she turned her head at Takahashi-sensei. Both of their eyes met and never left their sight.

_Know'st thou not at the fall of the leaf_

_How the soul feels like a dried sheaf_

_Bound up at length for harvesting,_

_And how death seems a comely thing_

_In Autumn at the fall of the leaf?_

"Autumn Song." Taro was quite familiar with the poetry when hearing the last few bars. He was in the hotel room when one of his classmates read it aloud in front of them. Unlike Taro, the classmate spewed on those words. It was an insult to all poetry lovers everywhere. Although a pacifist, for a moment, he wanted to slap the boy for insulting something that was beautiful of a poem. He compared poetry to women. He knew that he was unable to speak woman, but poetry served as an alternative to women. Once in his diary, he wrote a narrative on his comparison of women with poetry.

_She appeared in the room with the winter snow hovering around her skirt. Most will not pay attention to her beauty, but rather her color. Crimson rose never looked so beautiful on a woman. Red as the summer sky that transcends into the leaves that we call autumn. She is nature. She is the mother of our Earth. With her black hair, long as wool, she walks in confidence with her head held up high. In an effortless saunter, she waltzes among us. The footsteps she makes adds rhythm to soft classical music that played onward without pause. Her eyes scanned the room in determination for someone of interest. When her eyes met mine, she smiled. Beautiful as the stars themselves, she continued what she was within my distance. Her soft cushion of her lips told more than what words can say. Her limitless effort to receive her love was loving. In return, I closed my eyes so I can accept hers for I want her to accept mine._

"Autumn Song is one of my favorite works," answered Takahashi-sensei. "My professor recited it to us in our poetry class back in college." Takahashi-sensei reached into her purse and pulled out a cigarette. She then looked at Taro as he averted his eyes. "It is okay if I smoke in here?"

"No, not at all. I mean, it's your car," answered Taro. He didn't turn. Something about a woman smoking cigarettes was very alluring. It gave a woman a dominant sense; a feeling that she was in charge of her body. It was her decision on how she displayed her femininity. It was appealing to the naive, novice Taro.

Out came the pink lighter as she lit the flame onto the cigarette. She inhaled deeply as the smoke consumed her lungs. Taro imagined that Takahashi-sensei disregarded the warnings on the dangers of smoking, but couldn't care. _I can imagine that she is holding it there trapped, thinking how her lungs must hate her now having so little regard for them they must be screaming at her at the top of their lungs-she refused to smile- those poor dying little cells that only wanted her well; how could she do this to them? She craved oxygen now but not until her entire body got the message that she was crazy and not to be trifled with._ Taro laughed to himself over what his teacher could be thinking.

She took another puff of the smoke from her lips and blew it in the air carefully. Taro watched the lipstick-stained cigarette flick on the ashtray on the dashboard. The smoke lingered in the air as a reminder of her actions, she pulled down the window with a small crack to let the air escape.

"Sorry about that," said Takahashi-sensei. Taro, despite his coughing, didn't mind it. The brush of cool air went into the car as her hair waved in the wind. It was like a river of silk. In the dark, Takahashi-sensei looked very ominous and mysterious with her glasses. She reminded him of the characters that were featured in the manga books he read. They were the type of characters that either played innocent or had an ace up their sleeve. Which side of the coin would Taro see?

"Tell me something about yourself, Mr. Yamada," asked Takahashi-sensei. "What goes on in the mind of this little spring chicken."

Taro explained his age, his family background, his interest in books and poetry, and the like. Taro learned from experience to only give out information that he did not mind being repeated. His mother had always warned him on wandering eyes. _Just because they looked friendly and they smiled, doesn't mean it is necessary to tell them everything about you. Remember, Judas smiled at Jesus on the very day of his crucifixion._ Mitsuko Takahashi might be friendly but has not made the prerequisites of their acquaintanceship between teacher and student.

Upon his conclusion on his background, Takahashi-sensei looked satisfied. "It is good to have a teenage who is very close to his family. Many of my students, in the past, couldn't give a single thought about their parents. Unless there was something, in particular, they wanted for their own game."

"My family and I are very close knit. It has been since we have moved here from Fukuoka," said Taro.

"Oh, you are a Kyushu native," asked Takahashi-sensei in a Kyushu dialect.

"Very spot on, Takahashi-sensei," said Taro in his native dialect.

"I am originally from there, myself," said Takahashi-sensei. "I was born in Yame, but my parents raised us in Kitakyushu."

"Kitakyushu is not that far from Fukuoka," said Taro.

"Yes, sir. We are virtually neighbors," she said. "Amazing how fate can bring people together."

 _What did she mean 'fate?'_ That was what thought came to his mind.

_**Come play with me, Taro. Follow me this way, Taro. It is okay. I won't hurt you. We will play a game. Do you like games, Taro?** _

He closed his eyes. His head was throbbing profusely. His hands were sweating and began trembling. He knew that he was on the verge of having the "attack." To gain back control, he slowly breathed. He took slow breaths to calm the tension.

When he opened his eyes, he saw that he was no longer in the car. He was no longer on the highway. He looked at the vegetation and realized that he was back in the forest of his native Fukuoka.

"Takahashi-sensei," questioned Taro.

There was no answer. He took a few steps back. Only the sounds of the crackling leaves were the source of the sound. He flinched as he fell backward onto the stairs. He got back up and saw the entrance of the forbidden abandoned shrine.

"Takahashi-sensei," questioned Taro. He was careful not to be too loud, trying not to alert any visitors. Why would he return to the forest from his past? Especially from the past he had a hard time remembering.

He proceeded forward to enter the stairs. Each with a nerve wrecking creaking sound, as if alerting the stranger to go back, he went up the stairs. He stood in the main area of the shrine, the shrine that the locals called, _mayohiga_. From his thought, he pictured sitting on his grandfather's lap as he told the story of the abandoned shrine in the forest.

' _That forest was one of those places which had no palpable reason to exist. It was a creaking shack created by nature to serve as a reminder that things could always be much, much worse. The unnatural, choking mist that swirled and sprawled on the forest floor was the first thing that spoke of a strange sort of wrongness,' his grandfather had said._

' _Why is it forbidden to go to such a place? Can you all just burn it down?'_

' _You can't, my dear grandson. There are spirits that claim that forest home. If their home was destroyed, then we will all be in danger. Spirits need a host and we don't want the others to become a host to these spirits. For as long we keep separate, then all is well with the world.'_

Taro entered the _mayohiga_ , or stray house. He was in the main corridor. On the wall, The sickly white substance seemed to possess liquid properties which only reminded him of the maggot-like texture of the eyes of a dead man who had been forgotten in his apartment for a few months, ready to burst at the slightest touch. Slowly, he titled himself away from the foreign object and continue down the hallway from the main corridor.

The sound of mushy and dead leaves whispered from under the soles of his feet as he kept forward. He remembered in the past that he went down that way in the search for an artifact to prove to his classmates that he was there. Why did he subject to such peer pressure, he thought to himself on his past.

The further he walked, the thicker the air became, which caused him to choke. He fell to knees as he tried his hardest to breathe. And then, everything went blank.

_**Come play with me, Taro. Follow me this way, Taro. It is okay. I won't hurt you. We will play a game. Do you like games, Taro? Taro? Taro?** _

"Taro, Taro," said the familiar voice of Takahashi-sensei. "Taro, snap out of it!"

Hiro fixated his eyes and jolted quickly. He was gasping for air as if he was suffocating or drowning.

"Calm down, Mr. Yamada, calm down," said Takahashi-sensei as she placed her arm around him.

Taro was breathing hard and after a minute, he started calming down. How long was he out? He gritted his teeth in embarrassment that he had suffered another "attack," and in front of Takahashi-sensei. When he checked his surroundings, they were no longer in the car. He was lying on the grass along the highway. His head was resting on Takahashi-sensei's lap. He had a wet towel on his forehead. He blushed by his lap pillow and that she had witnessed his "attacks."

"I thought I may have lost you," said Takahashi-sensei. "Are you alright."

"I am fine, thanks," said Taro.

"Oh no, look at your nose," she said. She pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and lightly dab his nose bleed.

"I am fine, trust me," affirmed Taro. "This thing is kind of normal." He lied on her lap and saw on how really beautiful she was. He blushed as he tried his hardest to gain his composure, but he knew it was failing. "What happened?"

"We were talking about being from Kyushu and then you passed out. I didn't know what to do so I pulled over. I would've called 119, but we were too far out. I did what I could to get you back to health. That was very scary." Her worried look made Taro feel bad.

"I am sorry, sensei," replied Taro. "I should have told you about this, but I didn't think it was a big deal."

"Not a big deal," she said, "You had me worried. I don't want nothing bad to happen to you." She added, "How long have you had this."

"Since I was a child," he said. "Doctors can't explain it. I call it a 'standstill.'"

"A standstill," she asked with curiosity.

"I nicknamed it around the time I was in the sixth grade," confirmed Taro. "Whenever I face some serious tension, I lose control of my body, I sweat, and my nose begins to bleed. When all of it occurs, then I go into a coma-like state." He tried to sit up from Takahashi-sensei, but she urged him to stay on her lap.

"I tend to be out for a few minutes at a time. When I come to, I get kind of sick, but that is just the norm," said Taro.

"You make it sound like it is routine," she said.

"I can't explain it, though," said Taro. "I wish I can know why I have these attacks or standstills. Then, I can get some help. But, I don't know. I don't know."

"Don't scare me like that again, Mr. Yamada," said Takahashi-sensei. "I don't want you to hurt yourself."

"I am sorry," said Taro as he tilted his head in a form of a bow.

"Listen, it is getting kind of late. Why not get together another time," said Takahashi-sensei. "Let's get you home, okay?"

Without a second thought, Takahashi-sensei led Taro into the car and closed the door. She turned the convertible around and return to the city.

_Know'st thou not at the fall of the leaf_

_How the soul feels like a dried sheaf_

_Bound up at length for harvesting,_

_**And how death seems a comely thing** _

_**In Autumn at the fall of the leaf?** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Stay tuned for more to come. God bless!


	7. Lost in the Sea of Trees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taro becomes entrapped in a nightmare. He questions do his nightmare connects to his childhood? Find out in this latest chapter of Eighteen.
> 
> *His younger sister, Hanako, makes an appearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys. Big Diesel, here. I hope that you all are enjoying the story, Eighteen. My main intent is it for not being your typical Yandere Simulator fanfics. I want this to be build on suspense. The storyline may be slow, but trust me, it will get better as the story progress. For my readers who are familiar with my previous work, These Grey Skies, then you understand. 
> 
> Thank you all once again for reading. Enjoy!

The neverending lights of the city faded away as Taro became enveloped in the blackness of the forbidden forest. The thickness of the dark blanketed him as he couldn't see anything in front of him. It was silent, very hauntingly silent. As if one sense was robbed, but the others became heightened. It was very disorienting, scaring the already fearful Taro. Like ears of a wolf, the soft wave of branches and the crackling of dead leaves felt heavy to his eardrum.

His nose was sensitized by the loam of the Earth and its decomposing leaves. Any source of life that made its presence faded away; living the life that was. The blackness nurtured a feeling of claustrophobia inside him knowing that the many miles of the forest became endless. One thing was for certain. He was in the forest and he could not leave; unless he retrieved what he was looking for.

When he turned around, he found himself no longer in the woods, but in the main corridor of the abandoned shrine. Unlike the last time where he met the hallway and blacked out, he was alert. Without any mirrors present, he wasn't even sure if he was eight or eighteen. He did know that he had a certain acquaintanceship with these woods and this shrine has an entrapment on him.

The further he went down the hallway, the narrower it became. He saw the unevenness of the foundation, as the knotted roots of the forest returned to reclaim its property. There was no map or any source of guidance to follow. Even if there were, the perpetual darkness created hinderance. Without a lamp or even form of lighting, his sight became a liability.

He wanted to turn around and go home. He no longer wanted to be under this excruciating torment. Then what would his classmates think? Would he remain the coward that they knew he was? Would he be a laughing stock? His parents wanted him so hard to make friends. They desperately wanted Taro to fit in with his peers. He swallowed his pride and ventured on. Now if it wasn't for himself, then it would have been for his parents.

He cautiously walked through the hallway. The only sounds he could hear where the echoing of his footsteps. Creaking loudly like screams from an owl. The lump in his throat wanted to spew over in forms of tears, but he refused to submit himself there; not yet at least. Suddenly, at the corner of the hallway where it looked that it divided, there was a faint light flickering. He carefully edged to the corner; doing his best in not alerting anyone of his being here.

Slowly peeking at the corner, he discovered the flickering light to be a lantern hanging from the wall. The small flame, flickering as if it had a minuscule purpose, danced within the encased glass. Needing it as aid, Taro took the lantern. Now having light, he proceed onto the other hallway which led to a spiral staircase. He sighed as he went down the staircase to parts unknown.

How long was the staircase? How long was he walking? Where there be an end to this? Thoughts like that hit his mind as he continued the never-ending descent down the staircase. He continued until he saw a flickering light ahead. "Finally, a way out!" He said to himself as he reached the bottom of the stairs. He raised his eyebrow when he realized that he had already been here. He recognized the lantern hanging from the wall. He then realized that the lantern he had was gone. The lantern he retrieved earlier was still on the wall.

No longer wanting to deal with this tirade, he decided to head back to the main corridor. When he turned around, the hallway was gone. The only direction he had no choice was to go down the spiral staircase. He ventured down the same stairs from before hoping that we had seen was a figment of his imagination. When he made the descent, he was in the same place where he had started.

Fearing for the worse, he ran down the staircase until he founded himself back at the beginning. He decided to go back up the stairs to see if there was a difference. When he made his ascent towards the beginning, it remained the same. "I am stuck," he said while panicking. "No matter if I go upstairs or downstairs, I keep going to the same spot. Just the damn lantern flickering and hovering over me. It's the only damn light in this God-forsaken place."

"Taro." An eerie voice called his name from somewhere in the distance. The voice was faint and ominous. "Taro," said the now childlike voice followed by a chuckle.

"Who's there," cried Taro. His legs began trembling and his teeth were chattering. "Keep your grip, Taro. I am just fatigued. Yeah, that's right. I am fine. Remember, rationalization over emotions. Keep control."

"Taro," cried the voice. That name sent a chill over Taro as he felt the breath of those words hitting from the back of his neck. He quickly turned around and there was nothing. Nothing, but blackness.

"Taro, dear Taro," cried the voice. "I am glad you have returned, my dear Taro." The voice was hauntingly close. The voice cried in both happiness and laughter. "What kind of game do you want to play? What kind of game do you want to play?"

As he turned again, right in front of him was the source of the voice. It appeared to be a ghost or a youkai in Japanese mythology. The ghost was dressed in a black gown. Her long black hair descended to the floor. Although he couldn't see her face, but she wore a white mask that was covered by a veil. He knew it was the same apparition that he witnessed at the bookstore.

"What do you want to play? What do you want to play?" The voice cracked again in a childlike manner.

Without any hesitation, Taro made a thunderous yell as fear enveloped him in front of this strange creature. He continued until he felt a cool, soft finger touching his lips.

"Please, don't make such a stir," said the ghost. "You are a good boy. So please don't make too much noise."

Taro couldn't move. His whole body was stiff from the moment he made contact with the ghost.

"I am so glad that you are back, Taro. I terribly missed you so! I hope that you have come back to stay. It would make me happy. We can be together forever and ever."

Taro tried his muster to speak, but it was interrupted when he felt the cold, dead palms of the ghost stroke his cheek.

"I hate to see my dear Taro in a mess. It seems that you don't recognize me," said the ghost. "We used to have so much fun together back when you are a young child. You were so precious to me."

"We have met before," asked Taro.

"Oh, yes we have," said the ghost as she continued stroking his cheek. Taro wanted to flinch but was unable to. He felt how cold her hand was and the texture of her skin felt like rubber. "Many, many times in the past. But, alas, you are no longer a child, aren't you, dear."

Taro said nothing. He did not know what to say. Here he was stuck in a position with a ghost that claimed that they are familiar with each other. What made it more damning was that he was not the eight-year old child that ventured into those woods, but at his current age.

"But that is okay," said the ghost as he interrupted his thought. "Since you are an adult. I think it is safe to play an adult game. Would you mind that, my dear Taro."

Taro looked away, but her hand grabbed his chin and made him look at her. "You were such a pretty child to me, Taro. Now you are a pretty boy. Now, follow me this way. It is okay. I won't hurt you. We will play our games. You always did like our games. Right, my spring chicken."

_My spring chicken._

_My spring chicken._

_My spring chicken._

Taro screamed loudly as he woke up from his horrid nightmare. He swung his fist and gnashed his teeth before falling off of his bed. He should be grateful that the thunderous sound of the rain outside blanketed his scenic tantrum.

He looked up and saw his ceiling. The rain made its shadows as it danced from his window. The cold sweat of his nightmare was shown all over his clothes. When he came to the bed, he felt the cold sweat soaked through his sheets as well. He sat on the bed to reach out for a box of tissue on his nightstand.

Taro wanted to cry as his "attacks" were becoming more frequent. This was the first time in which it had occurred in his sleep. Finding a solution to alleviate the pain, he asked his mother to borrow some medication from his father. One of the pills was an active ingredient for night terrors. His mother knew and her eyes were filled with worry that the "attacks" have returned. She mentioned before he went to bed that he was going to see a doctor. He hasn't been to a doctor for quite some time. He knew how worrisome his mother and now his father were becoming of him, he submitted himself to their will. That was the kind of love he had for his parents.

He took the medication and chased it with a bottle of water he kept by his nightstand. He leaned against the bedpost to collect his thoughts. He whispered a prayer for these "attacks" or standstills. "The devil is hard at work." He said to himself as he pulled up the covers.

Not long after that, he heard a knock at the door. It was a faint knock, followed by three fainter knocks. He knew it was the signal that his younger sister, Honoka, was at the door. He made three quick knocks from his nightstand, allowing her entry into the room.

The door opened slowly, quiet enough to not disturb the other residents of the tiny apartment. Standing before Taro was his younger sister, Hanako. Hanako was a cute young woman. Often nicknamed his twin because on how similar they looked. She shared the same black hair and black eyes. If Taro looked more feminine and had longer hair, then he would be virtually his sister.

Tonight, she was not her usual cheery, upbeat self. Instead, she put on a worrisome face. Her black eyes twinkled from his point of view. She was wearing an overworn pink nightgown. The skirt stopped to her knees. On a normal night, she wore pajamas. Since their mother has not done any laundry, she wore what she had leftover. She stroked the back of her hair that extended to the top of her shoulder. She even tried to produce a fake smile. Taro knew she was putting on an act. To lessen the awkwardness, Taro broke the silence.

"Hey, sis," said Taro.

"Hi," said Hanako. Hanako remained still at the foot of his bed. Taro wished that she could throw away the worn nightgown. However, she won't. It was because it was the nightgown that Taro picked for her on her 14th birthday. The nightgown featured her favorite anime character, but since then, the character faded out.

"Would you like to keep me company for a while," asked Taro. He opened his blanket and patted the available side of the bed. Without hesitation, Hanako climbed into bed and lied on the pillow beside her older brother. She got herself comfortable and snuggled herself next to him. He quickly felt her warmth and her body, but it did not matter.

"Comfortable," asked Taro.

"Yes," said Hanako.

Taro did not mind the company, especially after the nightmare that he had. It was not the first time to have nightmares like that. He had suffered from night terrors back when he was a child. As always, his sister would be by his side and comfort him until daybreak. It bought him comfort on how dependable and reliant his younger sister was.

However, at seventeen years old, Hanako Yamada was a clingy young woman. A class beauty at her school, she has attracted fans through her high school, her former high school, and the locals in their neighborhood. How could he forget the handful of love letters he received in his locker for his sister. At one point, suitors would stop him to relay messages to Hanako. Rather be a boy or a girl, Hanako was the apple of many's eyes, including her parents.

There were not any favorites in the family, but Hanako was given leniency than Taro. Taro thinks that it is because she is the younger child and more manageable than he was growing up. With his ailments of his childhood, he was more of a handful. Despite his upbringing and "shortcomings," Hanako was always on his side. She was devoted to her brother and her brother, alone. With that, came responsibility and consequences.

"Big brother," asked Hanako. "I heard you scream again. Was it one of your night terrors?"

Taro shook his head in disagreement.

"Was it the standstill again," asked Hanako.

Taro nodded his head. Hanako wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him. She pressed her face against his chest before kissing him on his neck. "I am sorry, big brother. Sorry, I was not there to stop you from having these bad dreams."

There was nothing that could be done, especially for her sake. However, it felt good to know that he was loved and supported. Even if it came from a ditzy, clingy younger sister.

"I am fine, sis, trust me," said Taro. "It was a nightmare, that's all. I am okay."

"I still don't like when you get them, big brother," said Hanako. "Very scary, for me, and for you."

"Don't you worry," said Taro rubbing his head on his sister. "I am fine. Remember what I told you. If have any of those nightmares, come into my room and stay with me. That's all I want you to do."

"Okay, big brother," said Hanako.

There was silence for a few moments until Hanako broke the silence.

"Taro, have you been having these attacks recently," asked Hanako with a tone of worry.

"Yes," said Taro simply.

"No, no, no," said Hanako as she tugged the comforter. She looked at Taro before looking away. "I wish it would stop. I wish it did."

"Hanako," said Taro. That was all he could say. What more could he say?

"I can't wait until I go to college so I can become a doctor," said Hanako. "I will find what I need to find a cure for you, big brother. I don't want you to die. I need you. I don't want you to end up like Michiko."

"I won't end up like Michiko," said Taro. "Have some faith in me. With yourself." He noticed the red-hearted clip on the left side of her hair. "You remembered the time when we went to the mall back in Osaka on that field trip in middle school."

"How could I forget? We saw so many things. It was awesome!" Hanako jumped with excitement. It was also a great subject changer as Taro didn't want to talk any further about his standstills or night terrors. "We went to that amusement park and I took pictures with their mascot. We sang karaoke. We played video games. You took me everywhere."

"Yes we did," said Taro. "Don't forget when we were fighting for that iPad at that crane machine."

"Dude, we were so close," said Hanako. "But in the end, we got that hairclip."

"That's right," said Taro. "It was the very hairclip that you are rocking now."

"You gave it to me," said Hanako.

"It was a symbol of our undying relationship as brother and sister," said Taro smiling. "No matter what happens to me, I will always be there. It is because I love you, sis."

"I love you, too, big brother," said Hanako. "Please don't get married."

"Such a sudden change of subject," cried Taro. "I am not worried about marriage right now. You can relax. I don't want you to marry right now anyway."

"No worries, big brother. I am the bride to my brother," said Hanako in excitement.

Taro blushed at that. Osana was right about his sister after all. _My God, she is such a brocon!_

Hanako began yawning. Taro knew she was fighting her sleepiness. He knew she was getting close. "Get some rest, little sis. Talk to you in the morning." He adjusted his blanket to provide Hanako with extra warmth.

"Sweet dreams," said Hanako.

"Night," said Taro.

"Big brother."

"Yeah."

"You forgot something."

"Oh yeah, that's right."

"We always do it so you won't get any more bad dreams."

"Alright."

Taro intertwined his hands with Hanako. He closed his eyes as he felt his lips in contact with Hanako's lips. Although he has yet to have his first kiss; technically, he has kissed two girls in his life: Osana and Hanako. Unlike the dare he had with Osana in their childhood, the kiss he shared with his sister was mutual love. He did not have any incestuous feelings for his sister. Unsure about her, he knew that he was comfortable to share that kind of love with her. Hanako enveloped his for a few seconds before releasing it.

"Bad dreams go away," said Hanako in a sing-song. Hanako turned over and went to sleep.

Taro remained awake so he could gather his thoughts. He turned the night lamp and positioned it so he would not wake his sister. He pulled out a book from his nightstand drawer and began reading it. He continued until he fell asleep, with book in hand, beside his sister.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned for the next chapter of Eighteen! Please comment, kudos, and/or bookmark. Take care and God bless!


	8. Grey (Part I)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys, Big Diesel, here. Sorry, it took me so long to release a chapter. I was once again in writer's block hell. Plus work was taking more priority than this. Also, I began questioning the direction I wanted this story to be. I want it to be different than the typical stories you all see in Yandere Simulator fanfics. I still have work to do, but please stay tuned. You will enjoy, trust me! Hope you will enjoy this latest chapter. Thanks and God bless!

He was people-watching. He couldn't describe it to be a typical afternoon pastime. But today, he was in the mood. In the center of the coffeehouse, his mind was beyond the due homework assignment and the condensated peach iced tea. He watched two gentlemen, sitting beside him dressed in business suits, talking with each other from across the table. What was interesting was the pair differ from one another. One was a middle-aged portly man and the former mayor of their town. The smaller gentleman assisted the mayor back in his prime. Taro listened as the duo reflected on their careers in public office. Articulative they were on their rights and their wrongs; their future endeavors; and the like. They laughed loudly; beating the table with their heavy hands. Each made a loud thump as they boasted about their ups and downs of their career. Taro did not really care for the mayor. In his opinion, the mayor enjoyed giving orders without taking responsibility. What he did admire was the friendship the duo produced in that time.

His eyes left the boastful pair and set on two teenaged girls. He first looked at the tanned skin, gyaru-looking brunette who was working on homework. Her friend was beside her on her smartphone getting caught in the world of Twitter. That girl's focus was on the topics of the self-deprecating, degraded society who are now lovers of themselves. She smiled as she scanned through latest fashion trends; newest pop idols; and latest celebrity gossip. He pitied the girl until resting his eyes on the gyaru-looking girl. She looked heavily invested on her homework. From a particular angle, Taro became grateful when he saw her reading a passage from _Beowulf_. She scanned through the book as she typed information onto the laptop.

It brought him back to the days when he was a first-year student at the high school in his British Literature class. His teacher, an anglophile, taught an extended lesson on the heroic poem. Although Taro wasn't interested in the unsung hero Beowulf, he was captivated by his teacher's enthusiasm. The coffee-stained, chalk-covered, salt-and-peppered hair teacher tried his hardest to engage the class or lack of a better word. While some of his classmates opted to sleep; or become enamored in manga or gravure magazine, Taro was in the front row daily giving his teacher an opportunity. Throughout that time, he took notes, researched the background of Anglo-Saxons and Germanic literature. Even before the class was invited to attend the Japanese production of the play, he read the playbill from the American production.

The play itself did not serve the unknown author justice. Their dialect was unrecognizable and their adaptations of the character were asinine. Nevertheless, Taro loved how his teacher generously, graciously applaud the cast. Tears shed from his teacher's eyes as he tremendously requested an encore. Following the play, the class was invited to meet the cast. The students displayed their gratitude through bowing and shaking hands. His teacher pulled out a folded paper of the program and wanted an autograph. When returning home, Taro had the courage to finally ask his question. 'Why appreciate a play that lacks substance? Why to enjoy something if we don't feel anything from it?' His teacher, as always, took a breath to respond to Taro's question. He gently placed his hand on Taro's shoulder and spoke in his hoarse voice. 'The fact that you are here criticizing a masterpiece shows that the play gave its purpose-a thought. If everyone loved it, then it did not do its job.'

His response was quite obtuse; leaving more questions than answers for the bespectacled Taro. Learning from past experience and through the example of others, he concluded his statement and remained silent.

At the beginning of his second year, his anglophilic teacher left the school to join his wife overseas in Wales. What that teacher left was something meaningful to Taro. His teacher acknowledged his presence. Before then and thereafter, acknowledgments were more of a mere passing glance. If he was a painting, then he served as the canvas; hidden and camouflaged by the colorful beings that propelled life. He was indifferent; rather blend in than to stand out. It made him a hypocrite, yearning for knowing new things. But what could he say? That was the logistical mind of Taro Yamada.

He looked back to his table once the gyaru-looking teenager gave him a staggering glare. He looked at his laptop and got back to his homework.

A moment later, the sound of the door clinked for another customer to enter. It was becoming a trend as the youth gathered at the counter; requesting their coffee, and sat at the table while drowning their sorrows with caffeine. He used the word, _sorrow_ , very lightly. He desired the quaint, simple life than the demands of the typical Japanese teenager. He was grateful to have supportive parents, and not being caught in the cesspit of stress of high expectations in the societal roles and academics of his people. His mother knew his limit and his father only wanted his best. Regardless of the outcome, he always received love and support. It was something that some of his classmates did not receive. Even Osana Najimi was no exception.

Osana was a hardworking individual. Since he had known her, academics was a top priority in her family. She was a Najimi. Her name signified importance in the town and through the reputation of her father. Her father was a well-known figure in the town. He believed in having a positive image of himself and his family. It was instilled in the blood of Osana from birth. She did whatever she could to not show her family any shame. Even if she liked it or not.

When they were in the first year of high school, Taro remembered Osana welcoming him with blinding tears. She ran to him and hugged him tightly. The hug nearly suffocated him. Her hot tears absorb his shirt. He wanted to know what had happened, but she was still crying. In the midst of her crying, he asked her what happened. She told Taro that she and her father got into an argument about an average grade in a class. He couldn't remember which class, but he can recollect the impact it had on Osana. When showing her report card to her father, she was greeted with a slap. She said to Taro that no daughter of a Najimi was going to make average grades.

It was the second occasion in which Taro witnessed her tears. He could only sympathize with her. He knew it had to be tough being the daughter of a political figure. It had to be worse to withhold such a prestigious reputation, he thought to himself. He also thought how grateful he was to not be born under the affluent. He was also grateful to be with a plastic spoon in his mouth, figuratively speaking. As a good friend, he comforted her and she stayed the night at his home until she returned home the next morning.

Ever since then, her dedication was on academics. She made it like a birthright to go to a prestigious university. If Osana was not hanging out with Taro, then she can be found at a cram school, along with many of his classmates. It was a race of becoming top dog, he thought. Her grades were outstanding, giving her an opportunity to attend many universities, including overseas. She dedicated her life to pleasing her family and it was coming into fruition. He imagined the smile her father had for Osana's accomplishments. And all it took was one slap to put her into place.

He compared those tactics to those of his acquaintance, Marcus Joseph. He did not know much of Marcus' home life. From the information that Marcus gave him. He was raised by his father in New Orleans. He had never met his mother. His father reared in academics, as his father did not have the opportunities like he did. Like his parents, his father did not have to condone Marcus to the pressure of the caste system or belittle him. His father knew his limits but knew that Marcus had the potential to be successful. At least he and Marcus had a silver lining, but Osana had missed that chance.

Taro admired that Osana can manage to keep a straight face through it all. But the old saying goes in his culture: _the nail that stands out will become hammered down_. He shivered when thinking what happened behind closed doors when Osana went home from school.

_Osana._

Her name breached from his subconscious in a form of a whisper. It almost sounded like a quiet prayer. His breath became ragged on sight. Why was he thinking of his aggressive, outspoken childhood friend, he thought to himself. It felt unnatural. Granted that he did not have experience with relationships and he wouldn't say he was quite popular with the ladies. He had never thought of subjecting himself to a relationship with someone like Osana. He had envisioned a relationship with a girl of subtlety. A plain Jane, if he will. A girl that only wanted the simple life. Someone who did not ask for much, but to enjoy what they had in front of them. Yet again, he was unsure that if that was what he really wanted. The first and only time he had confessed to a girl was back when he was in the ninth grade. That was a day he prayed to God for that moment to forever disappear from his memories.

The vibration of his cell phone alerted Taro. Taro pulled the cell phone from his pocket and saw that he had a message. The message had come from Kokona Haruka. He clicked on the text. She wanted to have another talk with him at their usual spot. She needed some additional advice. He was not surprised and responding that he would get with her when he had the chance.

He became concerned since their last encounter as she began to become more involved in compensated dating. Although, she had told him that she did not like the service, but the money she garnered helped out her situation with her father.

His mind then centered on Marcus again. He knew that Marcus had a crush on Kokona. How would he react if he knew that Kokona was engaged in that kind of act? Taro would not judge because he was not in that position. Sometimes the deeds have to be nefarious to find a way out, he thought to himself. He thought if Marcus would become heartbroken if he knew. Of course, he wouldn't tell Marcus. Despite having mutuality with one another, he always kept people's personal lives a secret. In his opinion, he thought that Marcus deserves better.

Not too long later, he received another text. However, the message came from an unknown sender. Not surprised about receiving such messages, he opened the message. Upon reading the message, his breath went ragged. His stomach was going into knots. His hands began shaking. Sweat vacated from his pores and onto his clothes.

_Come play with me, Taro._

Before he realized, his vision was going blind. It was flickering on and off like a light switch. His eyes were tilting at the ceiling. His body was becoming heavy. His body was going numb. It was not long when he saw himself going backward from the table. He watched his headphones going into midair; his drink going to the ground; and then, a loud thump as he crashed onto the floor. Upon landing, his body went into convulsion. As much he wanted his body to stop trembling, he couldn't. Blood seeped from his nose and onto his shirt. He looked as he reached his hand out for help. He couldn't speak as much as he tried. A small group gathered around him. One of which was coming to his aid. His eyes were becoming heavy. He tried to focus. He wanted to get out of that predicament. He was trying to scream, but nothing came from his mouth. When he opened his eyes again, he saw the figure he met at the train station. He remembered her hair and the color of her gray eyes. It was strange, he thought. He looked at her while she extended her hand. What scared him was when she greeted him with a smile.

"Are you okay, senpai," she said. Taro saw something red sparkled from her eye. That was the last thing he saw before entering the realm of a dreamlike state.

'Where am I?'

'Somebody help me.'

'I am scared. I don't know what to do. Mom? Dad? Hanako? Osana? Marcus? Somebody, please help me.'

Taro heard a chuckle. It was very childlike and sounded like the voice of a young girl.

'Who is there?'

It was silence once again.

'Who are you? Please tell me who you are?'

_Come play with me, Taro. I love playing games with you, Taro. Please come and play with your dear friend._

'Who are you?'

_Don't you remember me?_

'I don't know. Who are the hell are you?'

_You know it is not nice to use such language. You are a good boy so you are better than that!_

'Please. Just tell me. I am scared.'

_In time, my precious Taro. In time._

The voice laughed loudly before disappearing leaving Taro once again alone in the dark chasm of an unknown place. Taro was scared of what he was experiencing and what he had heard. The voice was a familiar. When he had that dream, he remembered that mysterious girl in that forbidden shrine in the forbidden forest.

The memory of that day was a blur. He knew he entered the forbidden forest and went into the shrine. However, when entering the shrine, all of his memories went blank. What happened following that incident was even a blank.

Suddenly, he saw a light. It was very dim and green. He walked forward to the light and then entered another realm. He was no longer in the dark. He was somewhere in a field. Then, he smelled something very familiar. It was the scent of apples. He smiled as he remembered how savory and sweet those apples were. It had reminded him of his grandmother. It served a special place in his heart. He knew the place. He knew it very well.

Suddenly, a memory resurfaced onto Taro's mind like a hidden relic. Kept in the servitude of his consciousness of many years, it dated back to the summer where he and his family were at his grandparent's cottage on the outskirts of Fukuoka. The cottage was perched on the plain of an open field filled with apple trees. The deprivation of the cottage was very poor that it was amazing that it was still standing. Despite the arguments his father gave his grandfather about rebuilding the cottage, he refused. It was the cottage that his grandfather built with his hands. By destroying the cottage, he will be destroying the legacy. Taro was too young to understand what they were explaining, but he loved how warm and welcoming it was. The evidence of life from the cottage was the ribbon of smoke that came from the chimney; the sounds the chimes made with the wind; and the sound of moving water from the neighboring brook. The materials that were built for the cottage, wood, and stone, were allegedly given to them by westerners who visited the area. They developed a relationship that they traded with one another, and thus the family cottage was born.

While his grandfather served as the elder of the village, his grandmother served the role of running the apple orchard. The apples were a huge contribution to the community and the surrounding areas of the prefecture. His grandmother spent years building the family orchard so that it can be handed down to his parents or to him and Hanako after they leave this earth. Like his parents, his grandparents were closely knitted to them as well.

He remembered how warm and welcoming her hug was as they embraced. She smelled of apples. He imagined that grandmother must bathe in apples. He chuckled and at the same time, became ill of that thought. His grandfather was always out. Either at the village square or at the bar getting his fill of rice wine and playing darts.

'I am so glad that you have returned dears,' said his grandmother. Her wrinkled hands told a tale of her hard work as a farmer, a wife, and a mother. She kept her hands on his face. 'Taro, you are getting so big. You are getting taller and taller every day.' Her smile spread wide and her eyes glistened with joy. Taro knew that she anticipated their arrival every summer. Although they lived in the same town, his parents' schedule did not allow them to visit their grandparents. His grandfather didn't drive and his grandmother didn't believe in riding in vehicles. The summertime was the only time in which Taro could see them. Truthfully, the young lad anticipated the arrival more than anybody.

'Easy mom,' said his mother, 'Don't forget that he is getting ready to become a man soon.' She winked at Taro and then at his grandmother. But before he could manage to get a word out, his sister Hanako jolted from his mother and gave her grandmother a hug. 'Hanako, you know I always happy to see you, dear.' 'Grandma, grandma!' Hanako kept saying with excitement as she clung to her like bee onto a flower.

'I am glad that you have reminded me about that, Sayuri,' said his grandmother before turning to Taro. 'It is about that time to begin the ceremony for the boys to become men.' Taro looked in curiosity and back at his mother. 'What is grandma talking about?' 'Not now, dear. You will find out soon enough. Now, come and help your father get the suitcases.' 'Yes ma'am,' he said and went to get the suitcases.

Taro wondered what were his grandmother and his mother talking about. _Ceremony. Becoming a man?_ He didn't pay it any mind as he and his sister went out into the fields to play. One of the biggest highlights of going to his grandparents were to pay in the apple fields. He and Hanako created plenty of pleasant memories in their home away from home. This time was no different as they played a game of hide-and-go-seek. Taro, admittedly, was not the best at that game for Hanako always tended to find him. What was worst was the penalty. Her penalties were the same: a kiss with her big brother.

'Where are you, big brother,' said Hanako with a grin. She scanned the orchard in search of her brother, but to no avail. 'C'mon, big brother. Come out here and take your kiss. It won't hurt. It is just lots and lots of loving from your dear little sister.' However, Taro had an ace up his sleeve. Before venturing off in the trees, he saw a small brush that was beside the brook. His grandfather was using it to prepare a bond fire for the upcoming village gathering. While she was scanning through the orchard, he lied in wait behind the brush until the game was over.

He snickered at his master plan. Although he felt bad for his sister. He did not like hurting her feelings. But if it would avoid her wet sloppy kisses, then the sacrifice he must take. As he sat against the brush, he felt the summer's heat bearing down on him. It reminded him of the times when he had to carry gym equipment in the hot shed of his school. Instead of being in the confinements of a four-walled shack, he was in the opening.

Seeking for a cooler spot, he left the brush and headed for the brook. He carefully made his way to the brook without getting Hanako's attention. He tiptoed without making a noise. She had a keen sense of hearing. Any rustling would have gotten her attention. As soon as he touched the brook, the water moved softly around his outstretched fingers, caressing cooly, eddying in its wake. He pulled his hand out and watched the water drop infrequently. The cool water, aided by the wind, made Taro feel better. He then rested on the grass and took his shoes off. He soothed his feet in the brook until he was ready to return to the orchard. He knew it would be a matter of time before Hanako became worried and goes to his mother.

From across the brook, he heard a sound coming from the woods. He looked at the forest. It was nothing there. He thought it was maybe a cicadas or a bird hitting the branches. However, he heard a sound, but only louder. It sounded like something was hitting the branch. He looked again, but it was nothing. Getting a little afraid, he stood from the brook and began to return to the orchard until he heard a voice.

'Hello. Hello.'

The voice went silent just like the woods in front of him. According to his grandfather, the woods have been abandoned for many years. No presence of life was to be seen or heard from that forest. He feared that it might be a youkai that his grandfather told him.

'Hello. Hello.' The voice sounded like a child. It was a female voice. It was very calm. It made Taro think that maybe it was a lost child or something.

'Hello. Hello.'

'Hello,' said Taro, this time responding. The wind slowly picked up speed and the branches were loudly shaking. It sent shivers down his spine.

'Hello. Hello.'

'I am here,' said Taro with a hint of fear. 'Where are you?'

'I am right behind you.'

Taro slowly turned around and saw a person. Her complexion was pale like she had hidden away from the sunlight. Her eyes were gray and dull. Her hair was a deep shade of red and appeared wiry like copper. She looked older as if she could be an older teenager.

Her appearance was haunting, which made Taro screamed. But, the woman wrapped her hand around Taro's mouth, ceasing the noise.

"Shh! Please be quiet," she said with calmness in her voice. "I don't want to scare you. Please, please stop. Please be a good boy."

Taro became stiffened by the fear, however not wanting to cause a stir, better yet involving his sister, he did as the woman told him.

"There. I know that you are a good boy, Taro," said the woman. "So don't be so noisy."

"How do you know my name," he asked with fear in his voice.

"Of course, I know you name, silly," said the woman. "We spirits know all." She was assuring and very absolute with her response. She sounded very confident, which made Taro slightly panicked.

"I have watched you from afar, my dear," said the spirit. "I have seen you roam through these orchards for many, many years. I know everything about you, my dear. You see, I can tell a boy who has a pure heart. You certainly do and that makes me happy."

"A pure heart," asked Taro.

"Yes," she answered. She put her palms on his cheek and stroked it slightly. With her other hand, she placed it on his chest, where his heart was located. Her touch felt cold like a corpse. Her hand on his heart made its heartbeat slower. He began noticing that his breath was ragged. "What's going on," he said as he felt tears coming from his face.

"Don't worry, my precious Taro," she said as she stroked his cheek. He felt himself before lighter before falling gently on the ground. "Shh! Please go to sleep, my dear. In time, you will understand. You will understand."

_In time, you will understand._

_In time, you will understand._

_It's okay. Just relax. It's only natural. You do these things when you love someone._

_Taro, it is okay. Just submit. I promise to love you. I promise to take care of you. You are mine and mine alone. No one can have you because I won't let anyone have you. Just submit to me. I promise to give you pleasures. Pleasures no woman on Earth can ever give you. You belong to me and only me. Only I can understand you. No one else can. You and I are the same. Stuck in a desolate world where people prefer worldly desires. We can create a utopia. A domicile for the two of us. They won't know. I don't want them to know. So, Tara Yamada, regardless of how you feel, you are mine._

_You hear me, Taro? You are mine._

For a second, Taro opened his eyes. He saw the absent expression of the mysterious Ayano Aishi. She pursed her lips. Her lips were soft, he thought. He closed his eyes yet again.


	9. Grey (Part II)

Visiting the doctor's office were becoming routine for Taro. Whenever Taro and his mother entered, the worker at the front desk greeted them with her usual demeanor. The worker took a slight look from her glasses before looking at her computer on information regarding Taro. After hearing typing, she instructed them to have a seat until his name was called. Taro and his mother sat in their usual spot next to the window that showed the neighborhood. His mother picked up the outdated magazines to catch up on any important periodicals. Taro rested his hands on his lap, always looking at them.

The doctor's office always gave him an eerie vibe. The antique fish tank in front of them displayed unique types of fish that the doctor gathered on his travels. It simply scared Taro. He felt their eyes were watching him; asking him information on why was he doing there. Around him, he heard whispers from the fish tank. At first, it was faint, then their whispers loomed around his ear like rushing water. _Why are you in here, Taro? You should not be in this place. If you would have listened to your grandfather. This is your fault for putting your parents in this predicament. Now you have to pay the price._

Taro covered his ears with his hands and shutting his eyes tight. He was silent praying. He wanted these things to go away. 'Pain, pain fly away. Pain, pain, fly away.' No matter how many times Taro wished for it to end, but he knew the fingers were pointing at him. He tucked his head on his lap. He masked his tears in forms of coughing. He did not want his mom to know what was happening to him. There was scrutiny between his mother and his father after what occurred in the forest that fateful day. Night after night, he heard his parents argued on finances for his treatments. He saw the shadows of his parents; the movements of such force. And every time, he cried himself to sleep.

When hearing the raspy voice of the worker calling his name, he held his mother's hand and walked inside of the room where he awaited the doctor.

Unlike the worker at the front office, the doctor was a kind gentleman. He was young and attractive. Fresh out of medical school, the doctor had stolen the hearts of many women who come into his office; though it was a pediatric office. His mother was no exception. On days of his appointment, she wore formal attire that exposed her assets. Taro knew that she wanted attention. At the time, she was not receiving it at home from his father. Once again, he blamed himself.

'Good afternoon Yamada-kun and Miss Yamada.' The doctor gave the same delivery each time they came inside. His welcoming smile made his mother blushed. Being called 'miss' gave her some appeal, Taro thought. He looked at the paperwork and came to begin his usual procedures on Taro.

Taro sat on the cold, thinned-paper, bed as the doctor told him to undress. He sat there and watched as the doctor examined him. The doctor placed the cold, icy stethoscope on his chest. He inhaled and exhaled as directed by the doctor. Taro loved the scribbling sounds the doctor made whenever he finished a task. He grabbed a cuff to check his blood pressure. Taro loved the sound it made every time the doctor squeezed.

Following the basic examination, the doctor consulted with his mother on his progress.

'How have Taro's behavior been since our last examination,' asked the doctor.

'Well, his teachers have said that at school, he is behaving normally. Aside from the usual tantrums of a nine-year-old, he is doing fine.' His mother kept a formal posture. She never let the doctor out of her sight. Her eyes lingered with every step and every move from the doctor.

'Any signs? Any changes?'

'No. Taro has always been himself. He is the peachy young gentleman he had always been. If there are any changes, be sure I will let you know.'

'Okay. When was Taro's last attack.' The doctor said with sternness, but out of concern.

'Two days ago,' said the mother. 'I was at work when I received the phone call from the teacher at school. His teacher told me that she found him lying face down in the restroom. She panicked and alerted the nurse. I rushed from work and to the hospital.'

Taro saw his mother's anguished eyes. She was already exhausted from working her long hours. Then, his father extended his hours so that they both can pay for his treatments. Taro averted his same from them in shame. Sometimes, he wanted to fall asleep and not awake.

'How severe was this attack,' asked the doctor.

'It was not as severe from the one over a few months ago. It was fortunate that it happened at home than at school. The school made us keep him at home for a couple of days until he was fully examined.'

'I see. I was thinking about his condition. We are still doing extensive research on the cause of this ailment. We are aware that he is suffering from seizures. However, we are wondering on this have occurred.'

'Ever since we found him in that forest over two years ago, these attacks have happened. I can't forget the hell we have been after that. He had horrible night terrors. Screams hollowing throughout the house. The days we found him shaking and foaming at the mouth. We did not know what to do. We are talking to you, specialist, everybody. This thing is so rare that it is scaring me. It is scaring my husband and my daughter.' Taro saw tears coming from her eyes. 'It hurts as a mother that I can't do anything to help my son. Night after night, I prayed that he can overcome this. I feel so weak. I am tired. Working over and over to make sure that my son gets the treatment. But something has to be done.'

'I am sorry.' Taro spoke faintly from his lips. The doctor and his mother turned when hearing him speak. His face was beet red; his eyes were watering from the hot tears; his hand was wrapped in a fist.

'I am sorry for making you suffer, mom. It's my fault that I got you in this mess. It's my fault, it's my fault.' Taro began hitting his fist against the bed. It vibrated loudly every time he hit it. He screamed, "It's my fault," repeatedly. Taro's stomach churned; overcoming with emotion. Then suddenly, his vision became blurry, his nose was leaking blood, and then he fell backwards on the bed. In front of his mother and the doctor, he had another attack.

'Taro, Taro!' His mother screamed. She went to him and patted his face to alert him. 'Please, son, get up! It is not your fault. It is not your fault!' All over Taro the room spun. It wrapped over and over until it went into darkness.

_Taro, Taro, Taro_

"Mr. Yamada! Mr. Yamada!"

Taro saw a bright light coming from his eyes. A beaming light filled the enclosed eyelids of his. He fixated on the light, alerting his brain that he had to wake up. After some time, he opened his eyes. He was no longer in the doctor's office. He was no longer in the coffeehouse.

He rubbed his forehead and then looked at his surroundings. He was a large white room. He saw many beds that were in rows. He counted them. There were eight beds. Four in front of him and the four on his row. He was the only one that filled the empty room. He realized that he was not in his clothes. The blue thin garment was the only thing wrapped around him in this cold room. The thin sheets did not help anything to keep him warm. The sound of the heart monitor filled the room; overcoming the soft sound of jazz coming from the speaker on the ceiling.

"Mr. Yamada," said the soft-spoken voice of a woman.

Taro saw the woman. She was dressed in a traditional white dress. It was the kind of dress that can be easily identified that she was a nurse. She had a posture of a soldier. It was like she was very precise in any action she made in her job. Her face looked genuine, displaying that she had sincerity in her profession and the welfare of her patients. She looked like she can be very attractive if she did not don the ponytail and displayed exhaustion.

"Good! You are finally awake." She smiled as she looked at the clipboard in her hand. "I am your nurse Miss Murakami and you will be in my care at this time," said the nurse with absoluteness.

"I am in the hospital?" Taro said with uncertainty.

"I am afraid it appears so," confirmed the nurse. "You took quite a nasty fall at the coffeehouse. What's the matter? Was the coffee that bad?" She finished with a light chuckle before turning around. She handed him a cup of water and a pill. "Take this tablet and swallow. It will ease the pain." Taro followed her directions and took the pill. He finished the glass of water and handed it back to the nurse.

"How long was I out," asked Taro.

"Witnesses said that you began trembling and collapsed on the floor. Many patrons were scared and phoned the police. It seems that you have suffered a seizure, Mr. Yamada." She cut herself off for a moment when she noticed her pager going off. "Thank goodness that your classmate knew CPR. Otherwise, I wouldn't know if we will be having this discussion."

"My classmate." Taro had to think about what the nurse was talking about. When he was at the coffeehouse, he did not recognize anybody that wore his school's uniform. The coffeehouse was not a very popular spot and with the kind of atmosphere and setting it produced, it was uncertain that any of his peers would catch themselves inside, let alone the vicinity of that establishment. He tried to think, but a headache was going along.

"Easy, Mr. Yamada. You took a nasty fall. We had wrapped a gauze around your forehead. We are going to come back in a few hours to check on you."

"Yes, ma'am. What about my parents?"

"Yes, they have been notified and they are on the way. I'll tell you, Mr. Yamada. I would thank the gods for having parents like them."

"What is that supposed to mean," he asked.

"Rest up and I will be back to check on you soon."

The nurse bowed before dismissing herself from the area. Taro sat back against the bed. He touched his head when he noticed the gauze around his forehead. As soon as he touched it, he felt the pain stinging. It made him winced.

Some time later, two orderlies came and escorted Taro to a private room at the hospital. He sat on his bed and waited patiently for his parents.

As he waited, he asked for a book to read. The orderly returned with a book on the history of the Western influence in Japan. Taro enjoyed reading books that contested his culture and his heritage. As a young child, he was defined as an atypical boy. Exposed to other cultures by his father, he wanted his son to have an open mind on what was around him. His father gave him history lessons on the Sino-Japanese War, the Civil Rights movement in the Southern United States, the injustice of woman in the world, and the like. Although his father was not much of a reader, he wanted the young Taro to get a fill of what was going to be around him.

'Son, you are going to be in a world in which black, white, Hispanics, and other Asians that want the same thing like them. Live in peace. Work in peace. Thrive in peace. Our culture is not perfect, but I refuse for you to be ignorant of others.' Taro took his father's advice in stride.

It was nearly midnight when the door opened in his room. Inside were his mother and his sister, Hanako. Hanako was holding a bag of his clothes. His mother was still in her grocery store uniform. All stared in silence before Hanako ran to hug her brother. He felt her tightness around his neck. She gave him a few pecks on the cheek. Her mother came and have a seat beside his bed. She did not say a word. She just took her hand and wrapped it tightly around his.

For the first time, he could see his mother's exhaustion. Her clothes were wrinkled. Her eyes were becoming wrinkled. The hint of gray was present in her hair. Her eyes were red, though he was unsure it was from crying or exhaustion. It made him think of the time when she was at the doctor's office. Taro swallowed a lump with the thought of how much money his parents have spent on his treatments. Now, he was thinking how he was going to repay his family back, especially since his father's treatments were added to the mix.

"Mom, before you can say anything, I am so sorry," said Taro.

"Don't blame yourself, dear," said his mother. "No one should feel responsible for something that they can't control."

"But the pain I put you through, mom," said Taro. "You should not have to suffer like this. You, dad, or Hanako."

"We are glad that you are still with us, big brother," said Hanako. "That phone call scared us."

"Many thoughts ran through my mind, Taro," said his mother. He still had his hand around his mother. "Sometimes, we think that you get better. Then, it gets worse."

"I am sorry, mom," said Taro. "I promise to pay you back for all of the cost. I promise."

"No, you will not," said his mother. "We can be millionaires and I will be damned if you pay me one red cent. You are my son. It is my job to worry about you."

"According to the doctor, you are going to spend the night. You can leave in the morning," said Hanako.

"Tomorrow, we are taking you to a specialist that your teacher recommends," said his mother.

He looked puzzled. "My teacher? What are you talking about?"

"Your homeroom teacher, Ms. Takahashi called us about your accident," said Hanako. "Thank God that she did."

"Takahashi-sensei? I did not see her. How would she had known," asked Taro with confusion.

"She said that she was in the area and saw a commotion and went on the scene. She said that she saw another classmate of yours touching her nasty lips on my big brother," said Hanako with a pout. "Your lips are for my use only."

Taro sort of frown with the comment, but slightly chuckled. However, he did not see his Japanese teacher at the coffeehouse. How would she have known about what happened to him? He was beginning to remember Ayano. The way she looked at him at the coffeehouse. It was very intent, he thought. Her expression displayed nothing, but a slight Cheshire smile.

_Come play with me, Taro._

"Taro, are you okay," asked his mother.

"Yeah, I am okay," said Taro. "Just quite exhausted from today."

"You _did_ have quite a day, big brother. Just let your little sister serve as a body pillow to help you sleep," said Hanako.

"I think I would be fine alone tonight. Thanks," said Taro. He turned to his mother. "Where's dad?"

"His back was in tremendous pain. So he couldn't make it. He is worried about you. In fact, I need to let him know about your welfare. Excuse me!" His mother left the room, leaving him and Hanako alone in the room.

"Hanako," said Taro.

"Yeah, big brother," replied Hanako.

Do you think mom and dad think I am a burden to them," asked Taro.

"Why say such talk, Taro. They love you dearly," said Hanako.

"I put you guys so much in a worry that I don't know sometimes if I am gonna wake up or not," said Taro.

"You must not blame yourself," said Hanako. "You are not a burden. Mom and dad love you. I definitely love you. Let's drop it." She placed a kiss on his lips. "I am going to get some hot cocoa for the both of us. When you come back, think of something more positive. Such as, what I am gonna do to Ayano if she commits such an act again."

A few days have passed since the accident at the coffeehouse. His doctor told him to stay out of school for a couple of days until he felt Taro was ready to return. Taro was given medication for stress. The doctor said anytime he felt the urge of the "attack" occurring, take the medication. His mother had to put out a loan for the cost of the medication. He wanted to use his funds he save for the cost. Every time, it was the same answer from his mother. 'Consider it as an investment for the future.'

That morning, Taro left home early to catch up with his schoolwork. Before school hours, the gates of the high school was closed. However, because of his good relationship with the gardener, he was able to get in.

He arrived at the school while it was still out. The school wasn't going to start for a couple of hours. It gave him the opportunity to work on his assignment in peace. He slid open the classroom and went to his desk. He pulled out some notebooks from his backpack and began working on his assignment.

A few minutes later, he heard the door opened. He looked and was surprised to see his homeroom teacher.

"Good morning, my spring chicken," she said. "Welcome back!"

"Thanks," he said while blushing. "It is good to be back."

"We were very worried about you," said Takahashi-sensei. "Did the hospital take care you. Did the nurses give you special treatment." The latter of the sentence sounded a bit seductive, but he overlooked it.

"Yes and no on the second part," he said while laughing.

"Good. Plus, you are very delicate. It takes a special kind of person to understand that," she said while winking.

Taro gasped. He was unsure as she was talking to him like a parent or flirting with him. "Yes, ma'am." That was all he could say.

"Oh, by the way," said Taro. "Thanks for alerting my parents."

"The pleasure is all mine. I was a bit about you. Thank God I happened to be in the area," said Takahashi-sensei.

"Yeah," said Taro.

"Listen," said Takahashi-sensei. "We still haven't gotten together about our little talk over poetry."

"I know, it has been awhile," said Taro. "A lot of stuff has come up. I am sorry." He bowed to her as a form of an apology.

"It's okay, Mr. Yamada," said Takahashi-sensei. She walked towards him and sat on the desk beside him. "Let's say we have dinner at my place. I live close in the neighborhood and it won't be too far of a distance."

His heart was starting to beat. "Okay, what time would you like to do it," asked Taro.

"I was thinking more of tonight if possible," said Takahashi-sensei. "If you have work tonight, that is fine. I can wait until the weekend. I just want to know how you enjoy poetry as much as I do."

"Yes ma'am," said Taro.

"Good," she said while gently touching his shoulders. "I will let you work. Don't overwork yourself, my spring chicken." She waved him goodbye and left the room. His breath was becoming ragged but managed to calm down.

When he finished his schoolwork, he placed it back into his notebook. However, he saw a crumpled piece of paper inside. He pulled it out of his backpack and read it.

_Leaning on your spine crippled by a dark desire on what it is called unrequited love, Senpai._

He began noticing the urges of his anxiety were returning. He went into his pocket and pulled out the pills. He swallowed it without getting a second thought. A few moments later, he was able to calm down.

"Something is in the midst." He said to himself. "What do you want from me?"

"You."

The voice came out of nowhere. He turned around and did not see anybody in the classroom. He stood up. He was feeling confused and scared. No longer feeling safe in the classroom, he decided to leave. As he ran out of the classroom, he bumped into another student. He fell backwards onto the floor.

"Excuse me, I am-" He quickly stopped. He saw the familiar, mysterious Ayano Aishi standing in front of him.

"Hello, senpai-kun," she said.

He closed his eyes and tried his hardest to keep his composure. He stood up to the confused Ayano and faced her.

"I apologize," he said with a bow. "Sorry, if I caused any raucous earlier."

"No, it is okay," said Ayano. "I am glad that you are doing well."

"Thanks," said Taro. "What's brings you out here at this hour."

"Wondering that is all," said Ayano.

"Wondering," he replied.

"Yes, sir," she retorted.

"Okay," he said with a hint of confusion. Then he remembered what happened with her at the coffeehouse.

"Oh, thank you for helping me at the coffeehouse the other day," said Taro.

"You are very welcome, senpai-kun," she said. "I wanted to be sure if you were alright."

"I am. Thanks," said Taro. "If there is something I could do for you, let me know."

"Actually, I do have a favor," said Ayano.

"What is it," asked Taro.

Suddenly, the sound of the bell began to chime. It was the first bell of the morning that alerted the school to be open. It was around that time where students would have early morning meetings or when faculty and staff began entering.

"Another time," she said while smiling. "See you around."

Taro watched her leave the hallway before disappearing into another one. With an hour to spare, he decided to leave the classroom and go to the fountain until Osana and Marcus arrives.


	10. The Woods of A Thousand Young

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, Big Diesel here. I know it has nearly been two months since my last chapter. I am still planning the direction on where I want to go. I am still piecing on how I want these characters to fit. I hope you guys enjoy this latest chapter of Eighteen. I am considering a name change of this story also. Thanks and God bless!

The sound of the bell alerted the waitress in the restaurant that a customer was approaching. The waitress, with her usual smile of greeting customers, approached the teenaged gentleman who stood alone. Her eyes meet his. When making contact, his eyes looked away. She saw how flustered and beet red he was becoming. He placed his hands in his pocket and fidgeted back and forth. Unsure of his temperament, she still kept the facade of a waitress.

"Hi, welcome to Denny's." The waitress said with enthusiasm. "Table for one, sir?"

"Yes, please. Thank You," said the shy teenager. He kept a calm demeanor and controlled himself through breathing. It can be seen that the young boy still felt weird around beautiful girls. The waitress was very attractive. She had soft, creamy complexion of a newborn infant. Her stunning green eyes reminded him of deep calm waters. Her lips were soft, or at least what it appeared to be. He took another few breaths while the waitress took him to his table.

The atmosphere of Denny's was no different than any other family restaurant. The sound of the few customers that were there talked their usual conversations, or "coffee talk." There were some individuals sitting in booths. There was a man who was reading a magazine. There was a woman who appeared to be working on something important. He could tell how wrinkled her face was and she was talking on a cell phone. She was also speaking in Chinese, a language he did not understand. There was another man who sat alone and stared into his soup. From his point of view, it looked like the man was waiting for something to happen. A change? A sudden appearance? _I wish you many blessings on whatever you are trying to find_ , he thought to himself.

Finally, the waitress led him to a booth. Although booths are reserved for two or more, it was near the day's end. It was also on the eve of the weekday. Many of the town's local residents were either at home preparing for the following week. Parents were preparing their children for school; the average salaryman catching up with his fatigue before making his trek to the train station; or students, like himself, trying to take advantage of their remaining weekend.

Marcus silently thanked the waitress before placing himself in the booth. She gave him a menu and asked if he wanted something to drink. "Just water for now," he answered quickly. She smiled and bowed before walking away to her post. Marcus studied the menu, but already knew what he had wanted. Similar to the Denny's back in America, they usually had the same items. Though there were a few exceptions to please their Japanese customers, the menu itself was the same. He preferred this route so customers don't think he was simple in his choice. Not wanting to be singled out, he studied the menu without arguments. He closed it and put it on the table. He took a sip of his water. It was soothing, relieving the dryness of his throat. Marcus enjoyed the taste of water. That was his favorite drink out of anything. As a child, he got excited over the fondness of water that he often compared it with other water. Its' taste and its' quality. His father thought it was strange but concluded that it was the imaginative mind of Marcus Joseph.

When the waitress returned, he quietly asked her for BLT without the bacon and a side of french fries. She quickly wrote it on her notepad before descending herself to the kitchen. He sat back against the cushioned seat and took another sip of water. With the spare time, he pulled out a book. He opened it where he last left a bookmark and continued reading his page.

The sound of the bell clinked again, but it did not alert Marcus. He continued reading his book until he heard the sound of a familiar voice. He broke from his reading and looked up. He saw the waitress interacting with a girl with purple spiky hair with the drill pigtails. It was Kokona Haruka. She was wearing a white, sparkly dress. It was cute and could tell that it was expensive. She had a silver necklace around her neck and a bracelet to match. She also was wearing high heels. Marcus noticed that each time she walked she struggled. He knew that she was not used to wearing those. She bowed at the waitress while the waitress asked her on where she wanted to sit. Without realizing, her eyes locked on him, causing him to blush. From his point of view, she pointed her finger to him. He watched as she and the waitress came to his direction.

"Excuse me, sir," said the waitress with much politeness. "She said that she knows you and do you mind if she can sit with you?" _Why didn't she asked me herself_ , he thought. "No, I don't mind." Kokona entered the booth and sat across from him. "Thanks," Kokona told him. The waitress placed a menu and asked her for a drink. Kokona told her that she wanted water. Without a second to spare, she asked for three bean salad. The waitress smiled and walked away.

Marcus looked down at the table. She had her hands together on the table neatly with such etiquette. The color of the dress fitted well with her skin tone. He was in shock that the sheer beauty of Kokona was in his atmosphere. Although they have studied together in the past, but the new aura she was putting allured him. In school, they have the usual school uniform. It was no different and most of the girls looked the same. However, with Kokona, she stuck out to him like a sore thumb; or a hay in a needle stack; or a rose that grew from concrete. No matter how anybody looked at it, Kokona was beautiful.

"Surprised to see you here," said Kokona breaking the silence.

"Oh, yeah. I was in the area," said Marcus. "Surprised to see you here as well."

She smiled. "Are you always at a Denny's on a Sunday night?"

"Not usually. I just decided to be here." He closed his book. He knew he won't be reading it anytime soon. "My host parents are out of town for the weekend. My host sister has her friends over." He twiddled his fingertips on the table. "Because of my 'exceptionality,' I left and peruse the town until they went home. Knowing for Kyoko and her friends, it is going to be awhile."

Kokona put her hand over mouth to cover her chuckling. Marcus blushed right on sight. Even she knew of his difficulties with women.

"Marcus, Marcus, Marcus," she said with a teasing tone. "When are you going to overcome this shyness of yours?" She leaned forward to his direction, slowly drawing her hand into his direction. Marcus was taken aback and tried to back away. However, she leaned closer and tiptoed her fingers to his side on the table. As her face and her hand was getting closer to him, he felt that he wanted to melt. His face was tensed and became a dark red. His eyes were wrinkled and furrowed.

"Relax, I was messing with you," she said before retreating to her side of the table.

He displayed a sigh of relief before relaxing his body. The wrinkles on his face returned to normal and the redness of his face disappear.

"We must help you overcome this feeling of being shy, you silly American," said Kokona. "I didn't think guys like you had this type of problem in right life. Have you been reading too many mangas?"

Her eyes suddenly drew to the book lying on the table.

"The Woods of A Thousand Young." Kokona read aloud. She took the book and scanned through the pages. Her eyes narrowed as she flipped through the pages. "This book seems complicated. There are some kanji and furigana that I can't even read."

"It's difficult at first," he said admittedly. "But as much as I can get, it is quite interesting."

"What is it about," asked Kokona.

She rested her hands on her chin. Marcus looked at her body language displayed that she was becoming relaxed. _This is a good sign_ , Marcus thought. _I am gathering her attention_. He took a breath and then took another sip of water. He placed down on the table before cracking his knuckles.

"Overall, it is about the story of a boy living with his older sister in a village," he said. "In the beginning, he learned that his parents were killed in an accident when he was in elementary school. Having no other family, he was sent to a village to live with distant relatives."

"Sort of sounds like the introduction of our classical, mythological Japanese literature," she interjected. "But, please continue."

"His distant relatives were an older couple and they did their best to support the boy, despite their ongoing ailments. He was a sweet kid. The kind of kid that did what he was told. He listened to his elders, respected others, and made himself as a great example to others." Marcus took another sip of water. He questioned rather if this story was still getting her attention. "But one day, his relatives were sent away to an assisted living home after they could no longer take care of themselves. The boy, once again, was alone."

"Me and plenty of others can lament that feeling. I can share the pain of this boy," said Kokona while looking at the ceiling. "Your mother is gone, your grandmother follows after her, and your father may as well been dead." She sighed loudly, enough to get the attention of a couple around her. "Going from foster home to foster home. Becoming trapped into the system. Just a lost kid looking for somewhere to belong."

"You find yourself relatable to this book," asked Marcus.

"Certainly. This boy is obviously has suffered a bad hand. Lost his parents and then move in with relatives until they disappeared. Unlike him, I took it bad. I didn't keep it in stride like the young fellow in your book. You can tell that it is a work of fiction." She frowned and then relaxed. "I am sorry, Marcus. Excuse me for that. I was kind of caught up. Continue the story."

"Alright," said Marcus while gathering his thoughts. "One evening, he went inside of a closet to do some cleaning. While sorting out something from the top shelf, he lost his fall. He tried to gather his grip with a box but miserably failed. He landed on his back and to his chagrin, the heavy box landed on his chest. After some moments of swearing and relieving his pain, he saw a thick book inside of the box."

The waitress returned with their order. Both politely bowed at the waitress for their order. She then refilled their glasses of water. She asked if they had wanted something else to drink. Kokona wanted a glass of chocolate milk. Marcus wanted a glass of orange juice.

When the waitress left, Marcus took a bite of his lettuce and tomato sandwich. The cook had just right, he smiled. Enough vegetables accommodated with enough spread of mayonnaise and mustard. After taking a couple of bites, he took a handful of french fries. He took the top of his sandwich and put some french fries on there. He took another bite and his eyes were opened with excitement. He was certainly enjoying his meal.

Meanwhile, Kokona was fiddling with her three-bean salad. It did not look she was hungry. Maybe she was not hungry and just ordered so that she did not have to be rude, he questioned himself. It was not long with she caught him noticing her.

"Oh, I am sorry if I was staring at you," said Marcus while bowing.

"No, it's okay. I just have a lot on my mind. That's all," she said without looking at him.

"Anything that you want to discuss. To get something off of your chest," asked Marcus. "You have been a great help to me in Japanese. I don't mind if I can help you."

"Don't worry about it," she said. It was the kind of tone that alerted anyone that she wants this discussion to end immediately. "Some things can't be solved with others but yourself." She added.

Her eyes narrowed and still looked away from Marcus. Her eyes were focused on the window. The shadow outside of the restaurant displayed that the sun was concluding its services for the day. The moon was approaching at any time once the sun went down. Marcus remembered on the news that the weather was going to be slightly cooler than its usual fall nights tonight. That was why Marcus wore an overcoat instead of his sweatshirt.

"Continue with the story," said Kokona, interrupting his thoughts. "I want to know what happens next with the kid."

"Okay," he said simply. He straightened himself to a decent composure. "The book was written in an unfamiliar dialect. Looking at the characters, he had assumed that it was dead Chinese characters. So, he decided to visit the local shaman of the village to see if he could translate the text. When visiting the shaman and the shaman was looking at the details of the book, he told the boy that this book was not any book and should not be in his hands. The shaman took away the book and told the boy to go home. That night, he could not sleep. Curious on why giving him an abrupt hindrance, he sneaked back to the shaman's hut after the shaman left gathering his rounds."

"I had always thought that a shaman remains in their post at all times until another shaman replaces them or something," asked Kokona.

"I wouldn't know. Guess he wanted to have a drink. I mean, he is only human," said Marcus.

"Or, maybe he wanted to get in on that 'action' that the eunuch was missing all these years," she laughed while placing her thumb and index finger with one hand and using the index finger of her other hand to put her finger through.

Marcus laughed loudly when catching her hint. Kokona winked before taking a handful of Marcus' french fries.

"Hey," he said, "those are my fries."

"Should have been paying attention," said Kokona while gloating. "Or what the Americans say: should have been caught lacking." She had said the latter part in English. Hearing her speak English was cute to him. Her English accent was very thick and at the same time, soft. Like crusted pudding skin on top of its gelatinous form.

"You caught me, "lacking," said Marcus in English. "Love the fact you try to catch up with the latest in American slang."

"I keep up with American music and American culture as well," said Kokona with a sincere, but stern tone. "Being exposed to culture and shutting yourself out in the eyes of the diverse and the ignorant."

"Wise words," he said before taking another bite of his sandwich. By then, the bread was starting to get hard. He didn't complain he ate it anyway.

"Go on and finish the story," said Kokona. "I want to know what happens next."

"That's all I have caught up with, for now," said Marcus with a hint of disappointment. "Before you showed up, I was reading the current chapter."

She shook her head. "Well, that's crap." She then smiled. "Guess you have to tell me next time when I see you." She looked at her watch. She let out a silent pout. "Guess it is my time to leave."

"Time to leave," questioned Marcus.

"Yeah," she said. "I am late for an appointment." She slid out of the booth and opened her purse. She had pulled out some money. "Here is my portion of the bill if you don't mind paying."

Marcus pushed her hand back. "Don't worry," he said while smiling. "It's on me."

"You're sweet, but I should do something to pay you back," said Kokona.

"Don't worry about it," he said with a calm, relaxed tone. "Thank you for sitting with me."

She smiled and bowed to him before leaving the booth. He watched her hurriedly leave the restaurant. His eyes followed her until he had witnessed her watching towards a vehicle. It was a grey Rolls Royce. She opened the door and the car drove away.

The waitress returned to the booth for the glasses of chocolate milk and orange juice they had ordered.

"Oh, where did the young lady go," she asked. "Did she stood you up?"

Marcus frowned but quickly relaxed. "No, she did not. She was a friend. She had somewhere else to go."

"Would you care to take this order back," asked the waitress.

"No, it's fine. Just keep it," he said. "Go on ahead and send for the check, please?"

"No problem, sir," said the waitress before walking away from the booth.

Marcus sat back and stared at the two glasses. Although Kokona had only been gone for a couple of minutes, but he had still felt her presence. Her faint smell of her shampoo; the fibers of her dress on the seat; the leftovers of the three bean salad she barely touched; and the glass of her half-drunk water.

He took the glass of the chocolate milk she had ordered and took a sip before placing it on the table.

"Sweet and tart," he quietly said. He had picked up the book and continued reading it. He had carefully read it this time. He wanted exact detail on what he was going to tell her next time they will meet.

* * *

His only source of distraction was autumn's wintry chill hitting the back of his neck. Now and then, his neck's source of warmth was rubbing it with his hand until he created friction. He just stepped out of the Denny's and was making his way in the direction of the train station.

As he walked across the street, his cell phone rang. He reached into the pocket of his overcoat and saw that it was his host sister, Kyoko. He picked it after the second ring.

"Hello," he said.

"Hey, little bro," said his host sister. Her voice was pitchy and cheery in a cutesy kind of way. Marcus can hear from the background the sound of music playing and laughter from the other girls. He knew that her party was yet to be over.

"Little bro, where are you," said Kyoko. He noticed her voice was slurring. He knew that she had been drinking. It didn't surprise that his host sister would go into their host father's cabinet and pull out the whiskey and vodka.

"Still in town," he answered with a sigh of relief. He had rather be here than being home. "What's up?"

"Are you near a convenient store by any chance," she asked.

"Yeah, I am. About a couple of blocks away. Why?"

"Good. Because on the way home can you go by there for a carton of milk?"

"Carton of milk?" He sighed. "Low fat, 2%, or whole?"

"I want whole," she laughed. "It is good for these udders."

Milk was Kyoko's source of curing her hangovers after drinking for an extensive period of time. Most of the time when she did drink, she always forcefully volunteered him to go her some milk. His host parents didn't milk. His host father was lactose intolerant and his host mother was a vegan; citing that she did not want to drink something that came from a creature.

"Sounds good, Kyoko," he said. "I will bring it by when I get home."

"Thanks," she said. "And bring plenty. Because it is going to be one of those nights, woo!" The latter of which she screamed loudly onto the receiver while her friends celebrated before hanging up the phone. He put the phone back into his pocket before making a detour to the convenient store.

He stepped inside of the 7-11. The interior reminded him of the Circle K back home. The layout, the design, and the degenerate cashier were the same. "It is like I am back in New Orleans," he said to himself.

He went into the refrigerator. He had grabbed four cartons of whole milk. He placed two of each under his arm before retreating to the register. As he approached the register with his items, the sound of the bell alerted that another customer came. Marcus slightly looked and then smile when he saw the familiar stranger.

"Marcus," asked Taro.

"Taro," said Marcus.

The pair greeted each other by bowing before shaking each other's hand.

"Look," said the voice of the agitated cashier from the register. "You know the rules. No damn loitering, you inconsiderate punks!"

"Sorry," said Taro while bowing before the cashier in a form of an apology.

"No worries," said Marcus. "I wait outside with my things. I can wait for you then."

"Awesome," said Taro.

Marcus walked out of the convenient store and walked a few feet from the storefront. He did not want to have any more fret with the cashier. A few moments later, Taro stepped out of the store with a bag in his hand.

"Got any time to spare," asked Marcus.

"Yeah, man. I can," said Taro.

"There is a park a few blocks down the way if you want to talk," suggested Marcus.

"Yeah, no problem," said Taro.

Marcus and Taro were walking down the street side by side. Taro pulled an apple from his bag. He inspected the apple, looking for any bruising. Marcus was surprised he did not do that before buying it. Taro rubbed the apple before taking a bite. It was a loud sound, alerting the alley cats and causing them to scatter.

They entered the local park. It was empty, unusual for a Sunday night. Some nights, couples can be found walking the park or teenaged couples can be engaging in making out or having sex in the restroom. The pair found a bench and took a seat.

"Pretty chilly this evening," said Taro.

"Yeah, the weatherman said that it was going to be one of those wintry type night," said Marcus.

"At least you are well-prepared," said Taro while taking another bite of the apple. "Surprised you are in our neck of the woods. Didn't expect to see you here until tomorrow."

"Kyoko had friends over," said Marcus.

"Are study buddies or her drinking buddies," asked Taro with a slight grin.

"The latter," said Marcus.

"Makes sense," said Taro while patting him on his back. "Someday, you will overcome your shyness."

"Yeah, yeah," said Marcus, feeling a bit frustrated. "I just left Denny's with Kokona."

"Kokona," retorted Taro. He placed his hand on Marcus' forehead. "Are you feeling okay? A moment ago, I thought you told me you went on a date with Kokona."

"It wasn't a date," said Marcus, with a tone to alert Taro to calm down his teasing.

"Okay, it wasn't," said Taro. "How did you guys get together."

"It was plain coincidence," said Marcus. "I went to get away from home for awhile. Next thing, she was there and we ate together."

"Alright," said Taro. "What else happened? Did you talk?"

"We did," said Marcus. "I was telling her about a book I was reading." He had shown him the book. Taro inspected it for a few moments before returning it to Marcus.

"The Woods of A Thousand Young," said Taro. "I haven't heard of that book before. Is it good?"

"So far, it is," said Marcus. "It is interesting. Kind of gives a modern-day approach of classical, mythological Japan, per se."

"Once you finish it, can I read it," asked Taro. "You know the love I have for books."

"Certainly," said Marcus with a smile.

"What else had happened after telling her about the book," asked Taro.

"Nothing more. She had an appointment and she left," said Marcus. "In a Rolls Royce." He added.

Marcus pulled the overcoat higher to gather warmth around his neck. His cheeks were becoming flushed. Taro put his arms inside of his sweatshirt to keep himself warm.

"Taro."

"Yeah?"

"Do you think. Do you think." He faltered briefly. "Do you think that Kokona has a boyfriend?"

Taro sat back on the bench. He cracked his knuckles before gathering his thoughts. "No, I don't think so."

"That Rolls Royce was pretty fancy. She even dressed fancy when we ate together."

"What was she wearing?"

"A pretty, beautiful white dressed that shined brightly like diamonds on the moon. It complimented her complexion very well. My mouth was agape in awe when seeing her. I thought I was dreaming."

"It is official. You are in love, love, love with this girl," said Taro in a sing-song. He then digressed. "Listen, Marcus, I don't know. I have had my talks with her, but not to the extent on what you two had had during your tutoring sessions."

"Y'all live in the same apartment block. Does she show any hints or something?"

"Not to me."

"Okay. I was wondering. I mean I hear stuff."

"Like what?"

"Compensation dating."

Taro went quiet as if he was thinking about something else. "Do you think Kokona is involved in that."

"I am unsure," said Marcus. He opened a carton of the whole milk and took a gulp. He closed the cap and let out a huge sigh. "I hope I am wrong. I hope that it is the product of the rumor mill."

"I agree."

"Kokona has too much prestige on doing something so subpar like that."

"Whoa," said Taro as if he was caught off guard with that whole. "Take it easy on that strong of a word. You don't know what a person goes through to do something like that."

"I mean, can others find other ways to make money without shaming their name?"

"Marcus, take it down a notch. Okay? No one is perfect."

Marcus went quiet. Taro took another bite of the apple before discarding on to the ground. By that time, the local cats came to claim their newly found prize.

"Let me give you a piece of advice, Marcus," said Taro. "Don't judge a person's table until you see their valleys. Even a person like you should know better than that."

Marcus was still silent.

"Imagine if Kokona was involved with that. What would you do? Judge her? Make fun of her? Make her feel lower than what she is always feeling?"

"Taro, it wasn't like that."

"Your tone and your eyes gave it away, Marcus. Look, I am unsure on what Kokona does, but don't shame others on what they do. Not everyone is born with a silver spoon in their mouth." Taro stood up. "I am you are a sweet guy and you mean well. But understand that there are others who resort to things, like compensation dating, because they may not have a choice. Life is already tough in this world. And you should know."

"By replying the struggle of being a black kid in Japan," asked Marcus.

"Those are your words and I am just giving you a fact," said Taro. "I am sorry if I tread on rough waters, but we have no right to judge."

Marcus sighed. He took out another mouthful of milk. "Sorry."

"It's no worries, Marcus," said Taro. "We might be acquaintances. But in other ways, you are my friend."

"Thanks," said Marcus.

* * *

Marcus and Taro were at the train station. It was the last call for trains before they stopped running for the evening. Marcus had ten minutes before his train departed, leaving him a little more time to talk to his friend.

"Thanks for walking with me to the station," said Marcus.

"It's cool, homie," said Taro while chuckling.

"I appreciate the talk we had," said Marcus. "Sometimes, it is good to be reminded to get back in check.

As he approached the stairs that led to his destination, Marcus turned around. "I had never asked you on how you have been?" He had a concerned look on his face. "How have you been with this illness of yours?"

Taro stretched his arms and then return his eyes to Marcus as if he wanted to verify something.

"I feel better," he said very straightforwardly. "I am seeing a specialist and I am receiving medication for it."

"Good, at least you are in good spirits with it," said Marcus. "How come you didn't explain it to me about it?"

He let out a smile. "Because we weren't friends before this."

Marcus returned his smile. "Well, it is good to know that we are now friends, Taro." Marcus extended his hand. Taro then extended his hand and they shook hands.

"See you at school tomorrow," said Taro.

"Later, man," said Marcus.

Marcus went through the ticket gate and came to a halt when hearing Taro calling his name. "Kokona is single."

"What," he asked again because the sound of the train was muffling their voices.

"Kokona is single. There is nothing to worry about."

"Thanks, Taro. Good night."

"Night."

Marcus watched Taro walked up the stairs. He then walked to the platform and entered the train that would return him to his home. Soon, the departure signal sounded, the doors closed, and the train pulled away from the platform.

Marcus sat quietly in his seat as he got himself comfortable for the ride back to the suburbs. Soon as the town disappeared from his point view, he had returned to his book. He opened the page where it was last bookmarked. He pulled out a pen and began writing on the page. He was grateful that Kokona did not read any further, he thought.


	11. The Maiden Draws Near (Part I)

Taro took a breath. It wasn't a typical everyday breath, but a release of tension that has been weighing heavy on his mind. "Two weeks," he had said to himself. "Two weeks," he said again with a hint of excitement in his voice. It has been two weeks since he has not had any symptoms of "the attack." Thanks to some connections from the school counselor, Taro was set up with a therapist who can help him control his symptoms. At first, Taro was reluctant, fearing the concern for cost from his disadvantaged family. However, the therapist calmed his worries for it was _pro bono_ from an anonymous source. Unsure of whom it was, he was highly grateful. His family was definitely grateful. His father could not any longer suppress the smile from his wrinkled face. Taro felt warm. It was the first time to see his father smile for quite some time.

He closed his notebook where he documents any time he felt stress. Lately, there has not been anything to report. Aside from the worries of being a typical teenager and the occasional nightmares of his childhood, there was nothing out of the ordinary. He stepped out of his bedroom and walked into the hallway. The smell of onigiri was looming around. It was making his mouth watered. He knew that lunch was close by.

Then he digressed, he forgot that he must save his appetite. Tonight was the night of his dinner date with Takahashi-sensei. Words couldn't fathom the happiness and the excitement of having a talk with his favorite poet. The night before, he went through her book and practiced what lines he can say to her. Of course, the nervous teenager mumbled and bumbled. From time to time, he received a jeer from his loving sister or a chuckle from his nosy mother. If his lines don't suffice, then at least his attire for tonight was ready.

And speaking of his attire, he reached for his cell phone to call Marcus. After a few rings, he answered.

"Hello," said Marcus.

"Hey, how's it going? It's Taro."

"Hey, man. Nothing much. At home, you?"

"At home still. About to get ready for tonight."

"That's right. Your date with our teacher," replied Marcus with a hint of slyness.

"Ha! Ha! Ha!," replied Taro with sarcasm. "Anyway, I called to see if you have my clothes ready."

"Of course, amigo," said Marcus. "They are waiting for you at my house. How soon can you get there?"

"I can get there in an hour or so with the express train," he said. "Does it look good?"

"Taro, remember. I am American. Excuse me, I am an African American with a love of jazz and good taste. Of course, it looks good. Need any pictures for proof?"

"No, no. I trust you," said Taro. "I will be on my way soon."

"Alright, I will be here."

"Great! See you then. Bye!"

"Bye!"

The home was a small terrace on a dead street. It was the last house on the block. It was an updated Western-style home. Bushels of rose masked the front of the home. Vegetation also served as decoration around the walkway and the driveway of the home. It reminded him of a Stephen King novel, but can not remember the title if his life depended on it. As he approached closer, the marker, which displayed the family name, was etched in stone brick beside the gate.

"Ya-ma-mo-to," he read loudly to ensure that he was reading the kanji correctly. From what he was told, Marcus' father was old friends with the host father. Both of them were drinking buddies back when Marcus' father was in the military. His host father served as a translator for the company Marcus' father was working with. If Taro remembered, he was involved in the electronic programming. Long story short, the pair remained friends and when Marcus was able to study aboard, the host father allowed Marcus to come stay with him and his father.

As he was walking on the cobblestone to the front door, the leaves crackled under his feet. A great reminder of autumn, he told himself. And a brighter side to the turmoil he has suffered over the last few weeks. Just to be safe, he patted the back of his pocket to make sure that his medicine was with him. It was.

He pressed the button on the intercom. He had hoped he was interrupting anything. Although he told Marcus of his arrival, but he was unsure if Marcus told the others.

"Hello," said the sound of the voice. It sounded feminine. It had an elegance behind it as if she had classes on diction of language.

"Hi," he answered. "This is Taro Yamada. I am a friend of Marcus." He bowed swiftly. "I wanted to see if he was home. I know that he is expecting me."

There was a pause for a second. The wind was getting a bit nippy. He felt the frost of the budding winter on his fingertips.

"Just a second," the voice returned.

After a few moments, the door became ajar and out came a woman. She was wearing a blue blouse and blue jeans. She was also sporting a blue scarf around her neck. Taro was enamored by her appearance. She was tan-skinned and it was very radiant. Her chestnut hair extended down to her back. Her curvaceous body complimented her very well, especially where it counted. Her hazel eyes reminded him roasted chestnuts after being cooled. She appeared to be Japanese but had features that can also identify her as a foreigner.

She leaned against the door and displayed a friendly smirk on her face. "So, you must be the famous Taro I have heard about?" By this time, the door became open and she leaned in a position that made Taro blushed.

"Yes, Onee-san," he replied before bowing.

"Whoa! Easy with that. No formalities here," she told him, urging him to relax. "We are not as formal as we are casual." She extended her hand, which was another surprise to him for that is not typical mannerisms.

 _She must be a foreigner_ , he thought to himself. Despite extending her hand, he bowed.

She sighed but shrugged it off. "My name is Kyoko Yamamoto, but you can call me Kyoto if you want."

"Ok, Kyoko-san," he replied.

She flushed but chuckled. "God, you are adorable." She moved beside the door. "Come on in." She allowed Taro to enter the room before closing the door behind her.

"Marcus just got out of the shower. He won't be long. Care to take a seat in the living room," asked Kyoko.

"Yes, please," replied Taro.

Kyoko led Taro to the living room. It was a typical standard living room. It had a sofa and a love seat that was low to the ground. It had the kotatsu as its centerpiece. They had an alcove adjacent from the living room. There wasn't a television set there. Taro could tell that they already use the room. The newly scent of the furniture gave it away. Also, he noticed there were price tags on them. _Odd_ , he thought to himself.

Kyoko returned a few minutes later with a tray of rice crackers and two cans of raspberry soda. "Sorry about our choice of items, that is all we had. Dad hasn't been grocery shopping yet."

"It's fine," Taro reassured her while waving his hands. "I don't take much to please."

"Wonderful," she said before sitting herself across from him at the kotatsu.

Taro watched how elegant she was when she ate her crackers. She took a few bites before swallowing. She took her time. She took a breath before washing it down with her soda. She was careful with that as well. She had a napkin to wipe down any residue of her soda mustache.

"You are very careful with your food, aren't you," asked Taro.

She laughed. "Sorry about that. Just how I operate."

"That is fine. My mom took etiquette classes when I was younger," said Taro. "So, did my sister."

Kyoko put her hand to her lip. _She is really pretty_ , he thought, which made him blushed.

"You're lucky she wanted to take classes. My mom is an etiquette teacher. She is very prim and proper and wanted us to practice ever since we could walk."

"Really," said Taro.

"Yeah," she said. "You see, my mom is a perfectionist. Ever since I can remember she always been that way."

"Aren't _they_ all," he said, hoping that she had caught the hint of what he was displaying.

As she took another bite of her rice cracker, he took a further inspection of the living room. He saw pictures of her and her parents. There are even pictures of Marcus with them. However, one picture caught his interest.

"I didn't know you have a brother," said Taro

Her eyes narrowed, which made him wished he didn't ask that question. Her breath changed, but then relaxed.

"Sorry, if I hit a sore spot or something," said Taro. He bowed to her in form of an apology.

"No, it is alright," said Kyoko. She walked to the photo where Taro was looking at. She took the photo. She wrapped it tight around her buxom like a newborn before handing it to him.

When looking further at the picture, he noticed some similar qualities that he and the boy shared. Although there was some distinction, but he sort of reminded of himself when he was a child.

"His name was Sato," said Kyoko after taking another drink of her soda. She placed it down before asking Taro to return the photo to her.

"He looked like a handsome and nice boy," responded Taro.

"He was," she responded. "A wonderful a boy as a boy can be. A gift from the angels if you ask me."

Taro felt a nudge of guilt, wishing he didn't open that door.

"How long ago did he die," asked Taro.

"Almost twenty years ago," said Kyoko. She continued to hold the photo, swaying her hand around her deceased brother.

"How did...how did...how did he die," asked Taro carefully, doing his best to not tread any further.

She was quiet, then gave a strong look to Taro. He blushed as she nudged closer to him. "You know," she said while still looking at him. "You kind of favor of Sato, you know."

Taro swallowed nothing. In fact, he didn't want to answer.

She turned away and put the photo back on the mantle. She then returned to the kotatsu where she sat. "Oh, I am sorry," she said. "I did not answer you question."

"It's okay," he said. "No need to explain. I don't want to tread any more water than I have to."

She chuckled, but in a self-deprecating manner. "No, it's okay. It's been nearly twenty years. We should not have to dwell in the past." She closed her eyes, drew a breath, and then sighed."

The clock on the wall began ticking loudly as the pregnant silence returned. Taro watched as Kyoko sat closer to him on the sofa.

"Sato was my older brother. We are a few years apart. At the time of his death, I was still barely an infant," she said.

Taro remained silent.

"We were on a family trip. Me, Mom, Dad, and Sato. That day, my mother wanted to have a picnic. Agreeing with her, we all went."

Taro took a sip of his soda. It was a nervous twitch he was having to cope with awkward moments.

"Sato and I decided to play hide-and-seek," she said. "I was supposed to hide."

"Oh," he simply said. "What happened?"

"He was gone for too long and I got worried. Sato wouldn't travel too far especially in an unfamiliar place. After a few minutes, I ran to tell Mom and Dad. When they search around the area and Sato couldn't be found, they got worried. Before you know, they phoned the police and the search team spread throughout the area to found Sato."

Kyoko took a breath.

"The search team continued to the evening. By that time, my Mom got into a panic. She kept screaming and screaming about finding Sato." She took another breath. Taro watched her fingertips rattling. He could feel them on the sofa behind him. "18 hours after the search began, he was found in the creek. When they recovered him, he was already dead."

"I am so sorry," said Taro. "Look, I don't want to re-open wounds. We can end it if you want to."

He suddenly felt a presence around the back of his head. A gentle hand rubbing his hair. "You are sweet. Such an angel, you are."

It wasn't long until he heard the sound of Marcus coming down the stairs.

"Hey, Taro. What's up? Didn't know you were here."

"Yeah," he replied. "Your host sister said you were in the shower."

"Hey, sorry about that," said Marcus. "So, anyway, you ready?"

"Yeah," replied Taro. _Also ready to leave this awkward scene with Kyoko. Sort of getting creepy vibes around here._

"Hey, sis. Thanks for watching Taro. I hope he wasn't too much trouble."

She smiled. "No trouble, little bro."

As Taro followed Marcus upstairs, he heard Kyoko spoke in another tone that was different from their talk earlier. "He was no trouble at all. He was quite a spring chicken."

Marcus' bedroom was a former office of his host father. The remnant of its former self was a desk and a small bookshelf. Taro took a seat on the chair while Marcus went into his closet.

"Alright, homie. Here you go," said Marcus.

Taro was amazed at the clothes that Marcus was letting him borrow. It was a blue long-sleeved buttoned-down with a black vest and khaki chinos. The shoes were Stacy Adams.

"You have a great taste in clothes, Marcus," smiled Taro. "This is great for tonight."

"Don't mention it, buddy," responded Marcus. "We are friends. What is yours is mine."

"Appreciate it, as always," said Taro. "How did you get great taste in clothes?"

"My dad was into fashion," said Marcus. "He was the Miles Davis kind of guy. Wouldn't leave the house and go to the jazz club with just anything on. He wanted the best."

"You have certainly learned from the best," said Taro before looking at Marcus strangely. "Hey, I apologize for earlier with Kyoko."

"What did you do," asked Marcus.

"I saw a picture of her dead brother and I must have hit a sore spot," said Taro.

Marcus scratched his head. "What are you talking about?"

"The picture of the boy downstairs that kind looked like me," explained Taro. "She said that she had a brother named Sato and that he drowned in an accident twenty years ago."

"Taro, are you pulling my leg," questioned Marcus.

"No, I am serious. Kyoko showed me a picture of a brown haired boy that looked like me," said Taro. By that time, Taro's hands began to shake and rattle. He could feel his head beginning to spin. He could feel his nose starting to bleed. He knew he was on the verge of having the attack.

"Wait for a second," said Marcus. "Now, I remember who you are talking about."

Taro began to calm down. He was panting heavily but trying his hardest for not letting Marcus notice.

"His name was Sato. Sato was actually her cousin. That's why I was kind of confused," explained Marcus.

"Her cousin," replied Taro.

"Yeah."

"Then why did she say older brother?"

"His parents died when he was younger and was raised in the family. Kyoko looked at him like an older brother and that is why she said that. Aside from that, Kyoko is an only child."

"Ok, ok," he sighed. "For a moment, I thought I was going mad."

"Relax, sorry. Just have too much on my mind as well."

Taro wiped the sweat from his forehead and trying his hardest to relax. Already having enough stirs for one day, he decided to make his leave.

Marcus followed Taro to the front of the driveway. Taro only had a few hours before getting ready for his dinner date. Taro stopped to face Marcus.

"Thanks for letting me borrow your clothes," said Taro before bowing. "I promise to return them in good condition."

"It's no problem," Marcus responded in English. "Just have fun and enjoy."

"Thanks," said Taro. "See ya." He bowed before making his way down the street.

"Hey Taro," shouted Marcus.

Taro turned around. "Yeah."

"Just be careful about tonight. Keep it simple and leave it at that."

"What do you mean."

"I don't know. Just a feeling is all."

"You worry too much. You sounding like my mom."

"Being a cautious friend is all."

"Relax. I will be okay. If it makes you feel better. I will call you when I am done."

"Okay sounds great."

"Later."

"Later."

* * *

Marcus watched Taro leave before disappearing in the horizon. The wind began shifting faster, which discern the concerned Marcus. He returned to the house when he noticed Kyoko lying on the floor where Taro was sitting. His eyes widened when he noticed that she was rubbing her face against the surface. She began licking the floor with her tongue. Her eyes became hungry for whatever remnants of Taro was left.

"Taro," she whispered. "My spring chicken."

"Kyoko," he asked her. "Are you okay."

She quickly jerked from the floor like a skittish kitten. She looked at Marcus with a surprised look. "Nothing," she responded. "Just cleaning up the mess your little friend made." Her eyes narrowed to the floor. "Such a mess he made. Have to clean it up for him."

"Alright then," he said as he was backing away. "I will leave you to it."

Marcus swallowed nothing. He returned upstairs where he retrieved the book, _The Woods of A Thousand Young._

He opened to the part where he last bookmarked. He pulled out a pen and began writing.

"This worries me," he said to himself. "This is coming too soon. If I didn't know better, she is being more expedient this time."

From behind, the window began shaking loudly from the wind. Something was in the atmosphere, he concluded.

"So it begins."


	12. The Maiden Draws Near (Part II)

Osana Najimi sat in her chair as calm as she can be. Calm would not be the exact word in her current state. She could think of other places she rather be than to be in front of a panel of her classmates for their weekly student council meeting. Despite her true feelings, she always kept a smile on her face. She did her routine: announce the meeting, call for class representatives, carry any motions, and adjourn the meeting. Although a simple task for the role of parliamentarian, it felt very elementary.

She watched as the student council president addressed the matters at hand. She watched how formal he was speaking. Dressed in his fancy attire, wearing cologne that screamed expensive, and took a proper posture when standing with people. To Osana, she knew that the man took many etiquette classes after school to prepare for his future. She thought as she remind herself that this was a high school for the prestiged. The elite will do whatever they can to become the best. She as well was no exception. She knew that she must strive for one of the best universities to make the Najimi name recognizable in this town.

As her father described it in his study, a _Najimi_ that will rise from the ashes of tyranny, deceit, and betrayal to a phoenix of retribution. Often she wanted to ask her father on was her future in her interest, or was it in his? Never once she did. Another list of things she became accustomed to swallowing.

She sat as the clock ticked. Tension was getting heavy for her. She gently tapped her pencil on her notebook. The large hand of the clock was getting slower and slower, creating more pressure for her. She was ready to go. With cram school cancelled for the evening, she had the chance to enjoy her evening off.

On her free time, if homework was not involved, Osana spent the evenings embellished in her manga. She baptized herself in the world of _shounen_ and secretly, _shounen-ai_ and _yaoi._ Calling it her forbidden treasures, she hid them within her mattress. A ryobo blade she kept from one of her family visits in Niigata, she made a cut to hide her treasures without her parents noticing. Her parents disapproved of her manga, but gave it some exception. However, if they knew of the erotica she kept in the confinements of her bed, then she would not know what to do. Her parents would frowned upon it as perversion, but Osana looked at it as normal.

At times, she often thought what if Taro appeared in those manga. As fragile and nimble as he was, he was a suitable participant. Her heart fastened when thinking if Taro was in the position of being handled by another man. It gave her chills in her stomach.

"Najimi-san, Najimi-san," said the gentle voice of girl beside her. "Do you have any questions about the plans for opening a poetry club."

Gathering her thoughts and returning to reality, Osana shook her head in approval. "Yeah. That is fine. I am okay with that."

"And with that, the third year has approved the poetry club," said the class president. "Does anybody else want to add anything for this meeting?"

_Aside from you shutting the hell up so that I can go home, you baka._ She thought to herself. Unlike her behavior with Taro, she had to give proper respect to the class president. The class president was the son of the current mayor of their town. His father and her father have tight connections with each other. As much she wanted to give him the Osana Najimi special, she could not.

"Ladies and gentlemen and representatives of Akademi High. Thank you for coming to this meeting. Meeting is adjourned." Osana said the announcement with pride and hit the desk with her ravel.

The sound of the school bell chimed loudly as it made its final announcement for students to go home for the evening. The remaining students, those who were involved in afterschool events, were gathering at the lockers at the entrance of the school. Osana made her way downstairs to the area. She wiped the sweat from her forehead, relieved that school was done for the day. Her only thoughts were to go home, take a shower, read some manga, and head to bed. She was so exhausted that she was not even going to give Taro a hard time with her daily phone calls of her usual rants.

When she arrived to her locker, she opened it gently. Inside was her shoes and a picture kept hidden from sight. She took a slight glance of the picture. It looked that it brought nostalgia as she smiled for a brief moment. The picture showed her and Taro at the beach. It was in the summer when they were in junior high. Her family invited Taro to come with them to the beach. As much it was to her chagrin, she did enjoy his company. Osana was the kind of girl who admittedly was not honest with her feelings. She couldn't describe herself as a bad individual, but she knew she could be a pain. As far back as she could remember, she had gave many people a hard time with her crushing gestures. However, there was only one that stood with her throughout that time and that was Taro Yamada.

She hid the picture back in its place. She put her school shoes in her locker and then put on her shoes. They were comfortable to her as she got ready to head home for the evening. She grabbed her backpack and headed out for the corridor toward the exit. The sun was dwindling down, exchanging its mask for the moon. As the sun made it descent, the chill of autumn began taking form. Feeling its mighty force, she pulled a scarf from her backpack to wrap it around her neck.

On a typical night, her mother would pick her up from cram school and take her home. However, with her mother taking classes at the community college, she was unable to pick her up. She could have called her father, but rather not. Thinking about her father created some frustration, which was something she rather not think about at the moment. She pulled out her smartphone and clicked on an app to determine when was the next train's arrival.

_Ok. The next train is not for 45 minutes. Now, I have some time to kill_ , she thought to herself. She knew that Taro's job, the bookstore, was close. She thought she could hang out with him until her train arrived. _It is not that I want to hang out with that baka. I am just getting some time to kill. That's it! Plus, that idiot shit for brains should be happy that a girl is going to see him. That virgin Taro him._ She gave herself a slight chuckle before proceeding to the garden district where the bookstore was located.

On a weeknight, the district could be desolate like a ghost town. With the exception of a few locals, most people were heading home or for the entertainment district in another town. Osana liked how desolate it was. It gave her time to think. It gave her a chance to breathe from spending time with students she did not care for. Osana did not like being around students who thought they were special because of their background. She remember having a discussion with Marcus and Taro one afternoon on the rooftop at school.

She appreciated Marcus because of his background and upbringing. Marcus did not allow the opportunity of attending a prestigious high school getting inside of his head. Although he appreciated the opportunity, he remained humble. When it came to Taro, a surge of emotions come from deep within that it was often scary to her, whom was still working with her feelings. Taro came from middle class. He was not born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Suddenly, his father suffered a car accident and were forced to live in low income housing. Of course, word got back at school and Taro, at one point, faced bullying. Against all odds, Taro remained humble. She could never forget what Taro said to her and Marcus.

' _Being poor taught me to be grateful for the things that I need versus the things that I want. Cars come and go; houses gets destroyed; trophies fade and so on. However, the memories of spending time with your family. Creating precious moments as the things far richer than money. Money can buy a lot of things, but memories are priceless treasures. Money is only paper.'_

Her face flushed with that thought. Osana never knew the feelings as she grew up in upper middle class. Anything she wanted, she could get it without discretion. That moment made her reflect on her own life and made a decision to better herself like Taro and Marcus.

She pushed the door as she entered the bookstore. The dim lighting made it a little difficult on the eyes, but she was able to see. The sound of smooth jazz filled the bookstore as she went to the corner diner to look for Taro. When she made it to the area, there was no one there. She scanned the place to see if his boss was there, but not in sight. In fact, she realized that she was the only one in the bookstore.

"Hello," she said. "Is there anybody here? Taro? Taro's boss?"

The sound of a door opening from the behind the counter made Osana turned. Her eyes darted at the gnome-liked woman who was Taro's boss. "Yes, I am avial…," she stopped when she saw Osana in her view.

"Oh, hello, child," she said when clasping her hands. "The sweet, yet feisty child. Come on in and have a seat." She swayed her wrinkled hands to the direction of the seat. Following suit, Osana took herself a seat. It was in the same spot she sat during her first time with Taro.

"I am just finished whippin' up another batch of the hot cocoa and peppermint, if you want some," said the boss.

"Yeah, sure," replied Osana. Her palms touched the table, etching the layers of its former life as a tree. She tilted her eyes and noticed that Taro's boss was still staring at her. "Yes," she asked.

"Oh, nothing," replied the boss. "It's just that you are a really beautiful child."

Osana's face blushed. It was not often to receive a compliment on her beauty. It has been some time. "Thanks," she said, swaying her hair. "You are just saying that."

"No, no, my child," said the boss. "An adult who has wisdom can explain further truth than those who are younger."

"Be careful with that." Osana replied with a rebuttal. "Adults can also lie. My mom always told me, 'Scratch a lie and you will find a thief.'"

The boss wiped her hands with the cloth of her apron. "Wise woman," she responded before emitting a slight chuckle. "To be honest, I am surprised to see you here tonight."

"That's right." Osana's eyes widened. She had completely forgot her reasoning of being here. She wanted to see Taro. Something about the atmosphere that made her initial thought fade away. "I wanted to see if Taro was available this evening."

The boss shook her head. "Sorry, child, but unfortunately Taro is out tonight."

Osana's face was stiffed. It was not often that Taro wouldn't tell her where he was going. Most of the time, she knew. That was Osana. Whatever Taro did, she was on radar. "Where did he went?" She asked with a combination of sincerity, concerned, and curiosity.

"Couldn't give you clue even if it dropped on my head," responded the boss. "Whatever he went, he was very excited."

"How could you tell," asked Osana as she wrapped her hands around the table with sure tightness.

The boss turned to the counter and began setting up the cup and the plate for Osana's drink. The sound of the machine was loud, but suitable enough for them to talk.

"Earlier today, Taro came by looking for a book on Romanticism," explained the boss. "I lend him on a book on romance and he quickly darted out as quickly as he came."

Osana's face was flushed. Who or what was making Taro feel this way. She became uneasy. Her hands were tapping loudly on the table, which gave notice to the boss.

"Easy child with the tapping," responded the boss. "Bad for the nerves. For me and for you."

"Oh, sorry," she gently said without looking at the boss.

"Never you mind," responded the boss.

A moment later, the boss returned to the table to give Osana her drink. She also gave her a plate of warm scones and a few pieces of macarons.

"This is too much," responded Osana. "I did not even order this."

"Relax, child," responded the boss. "The rest is on me. You look like you have some time to kill. Sit with me for a spell."

"No, no," said Osana. "I don't want to disturb your work."

The boss looked on both sides of her. "I don't see any work. All I see is us girl looking for some quality time to eat scones and macarons and talk about the gossips of this town."

Osana was tickled by the boss's response. "Sure. I can manage to kill a little time."

The boss sat from across Osana. Both gave each other a toast with their drinks before taking a sip.

"This is good," replied Osana.

"Thank you, child," replied the boss. "The peppermint, in particular, came from the Alps. I had it special ordered."

"Well worth the price of admission," said Osana. "For I am one satisfied customer."

The boss nodded her head before she consumed her drink. Not too long after, they took a bite of the scones and macarons. Osana was cautious for the scones were too hot, which made the boss laugh. When she had enough, she pushed the plate aside and bowed to the boss for the meal.

"It was nothing at all," said the boss. "You are too humble."

"You are too kind," said Osana. She looked down before clicking her heels together. "I really can't say that I am too kind."

Surprised, the boss responded, "What makes you say that, dear?"

"Never mind. It is not a big deal," said Osana.

"Well, if you insist," the boss said. She dropped it and left the seat. She picked up the plates and headed to the counter. As she set her hands to the door of the kitchen, Osana responded.

"How can you tell a person how you feel if they don't know how you feel?"

The boss turned around and saw that Osana was staring right into her direction. The boss relaxed her face before returning to the counter.

"Depends on what you want to say," said the boss. "Depends on what you are trying to offer."

"What if...what if…." She closed her eyes, trying to decided on what to say. Trying to get it out of her chest. "What if he doesn't like what you offer? What if he doesn't like what you want to say?"

The boss blinked a few times. She put her things down before returning to the booth. The booth gave a different feeling from earlier. No longer it served as a place for meals, but instead a confessional booth.

She sat back across from Osana. She wiped her hands with her apron. She cracked her knuckles. She slightly turned around when she heard a couple of patrons entering her store. Once seeing them with books in their hands, she knew they were there for eating.

"Is that certain somebody you care about deeply," she asked Osana.

Osana shook her head.

"Is that certain somebody has a love for books," the boss asked.

Osana shook her head.

"Is that certain somebody happens to be our dear friend, Taro," she asked.

Turning red and looking down at the table, Osana shook her head.

The boss cracked a smile, but quickly relinquished it. She did not want to do anything to ruin their moment.

"Well, that is something I can't quite say I am shocked to realize," said the boss.

"What gave it away," mumbled Osana.

The boss lightly chuckled. "You're young, child. Your body language when you are around someone you care for. The tangents you can give and that person is okay with that. When you can be yourself around somebody and that person doesn't flinch, then you are definitely falling in love."

"I can't say I want to call it love," Osana confess. "But, I do admit that I do have feelings for him."

"How long," asked the boss.

"Since...since…." She sighed. "Since far back as I can remember." She looked around before returning to look at the boss. "He is my childhood friend. Taro and I used to be neighbors. We were classmates. We walked home together. We visited each other's houses. We did everything together."

"Friends that are closed are like that," said the boss. "But you didn't answer my question."

Osana flushed.

"How long," repeated the boss.

"During our summer trip together in junior high school. My parents invited him to come with us to Niigata. Of course, I wasn't excited with the idea of inviting my baka neighbor. But, my parents insisted."

The boss nodded and hummed with her conversation. "Continue."

"Well, at the beginning, I got on the him for every, single, little thing that he had done wrong and could have done wrong. How he sat or how he spoke to people at the country club or how he eat with the wrong spoon or anything."

"Seem like you were giving him the blues."

She chuckled. The first in quite awhile. "If this was one of his blues records, the Mississippi will be filled with the amount of woes I have given him."

"From the head of Minnesota to the boot of Louisiana," responded the boss. "If you gave him such a woe to the our comrades in the west, then imagine what ounces of love he could give you. Maybe as long as the Nile."

Osana coughed, caught off guard by her response.

"I am sorry, dear," said the boss. "Please continue."

"Well, it was the last day of our trip. We were at a snow cone stand. After we ate our treat, we went to the beach to go for a swim. However, I caught a huge wave and then…." She stopped, turning red. The boss noticed her ears were becoming flushed.

"What happened," asked the boss.

"I have lost my top on my bikini," she quietly told the boss.

"Oh, my God. That can be a woe," said the boss.

"Yeah. Anyway, Taro knew I was in a bind because he was next to me. Of course, when he saw me nude, I gave him the biggest slap of his existence. Honestly, he was more red than I was."

"What did he do to help you?"

"He took off his shirt and gave it to me."

The boss was taken aback. "That's it?"

"You don't understand. Taro has never gone swimming without his shirt. Ever!"

"Why is that?"

Osana peered closer to the boss, ensuring no one was listening on their conversation.

"Taro got into an accident when he was in the third grade."

"An accident. Was it serious?"

"I wouldn't know. He got it before he moved here. If I remember correctly, it was back when he was living in a village or a forest, somewhere."

"Really," replied the boss as she cracked her knuckles. "What's on there? Burns? Wounds from a car accident?"

"I can't quite describe it," said Osana. "On his stomach, it was some strange calligraphy. At least that was what it looked. However, it was in a form of scarring."

"Scarring," asked the boss.

"Yeah, as if someone was trying to brand him," said Osana.

"He has never made mentioning of that," said the boss.

"Taro doesn't like talking about it. It makes him feel insecure. That is why he never takes off his shirt. Not then, and not now."

"That was the moment when you realized you liked him?"

"Yeah," she blushed. "You had to be special for him to do something like that. Taro was embarrassed all of the way back to the cabin."

"You don't say," replied the boss as she rested her head on her chin.

"You know," said Osana. She looked at the window as a few people were passing by. "I teased him over and over about it. And not once did he call me on it."

The boss nodded in agreement.

"If a person can overcome his insecurity for a moment to save another, then that person has to be special."

"I must agree on that, child."

"You know, this is my first time honestly opening up my feelings about Taro," she said. "Normally, I keep it inside."

"Why?"

"It is always not easy. It never is. I tried and tried on numerous occasions, but in the end, it results in an insult."

"Trust me, Osana. In a way, Taro knows."

Osana's eyes widened. In a way, it was as if the boss gave her a glimmer of hope.

"If Taro can accept the things you do to him, then in some form, he cares."

Osana shook her head. "I think so too."

"Just remember, child. One should be careful on how long your thread must be."

"What do you mean by that?"

Just then, Osana's phone went off. She pulled out her phone to realize that her train was approaching. "Well, my train's arriving. And we were getting to the good part."

"That's okay, child," said the boss, reassuring her. "Next time."

"Thanks, Taro's boss," said Osana.

"Call me Miss Sayuri," replied the boss. "Or the boss, whatever you prefer."

"Thanks, Sayuri-san or boss," said Osana. She picked up her items, bowed before the boss, and departed from the bookstore.

An hour later, she departed from the long stairway that lead to the street. She lived only a few blocks from the train station. When looking at the clock, she had enough to catch up on some manga. She recently purchased the special edition of _Junjou Romantica_ and she wanted enough time to fantasize Taro as one of the characters. The thought of Taro being taken advantaged was consuming her now perverted mind.

She was also at ease to tell someone about her feelings for Taro. It was the start of her budding feelings. One day, she hoped to confirm her feelings to him. She had planned it based on the rumor of the cherry tree at her high school.

She shrugged it to Taro as a silly rumor, but it was a rumor that she painfully believed.

_One day, I want my honest heart to fill the void and tell Taro how I feel about him._

The idea was warming her heart. She was crossing the street when noticing something peculiar in her peripheral.

It only became peculiar when she realized something that was given her the confirmation of her fear. She had a tail.

It occurred at the stop before hers. The tail made its entrance. Clothing in garments unfamiliar to her form of fashion, the mysterious tail staggered a few seats behind Osana.

At first, Osana did not pay it no mind. Looking at the stranger as a drifter, a bag lady, or homeless. She couldn't tell its gender because of the floppy hat covering the head; the sunglasses covering the eyes; and the garment adorned a veil that covered any features of knowing what it is.

The only description she could acquire was the paleness of its hands. They were pasty white and looked malnourished. _It lacked sunlight. Like it was a vampire._

Every few minutes, the mysterious stranger breath heavily. The passengers around did not pay it no mind because they have already grew accustomed to the oddities of their budding city.

It murmured a few times, but Osana ignored. Opting to pull her English notebook to study on her verbs. She had an English equivalency exam approaching.

_I fear the closer we get, the stronger the longing._

Osana looked up. Looked around to see who was the source of the voice. She peered down to look at her notebook.

_I fear the closer we get, the stronger the longing._

She looked up again. _This is getting weird._ She once again returned to her homework.

_I fear the closer we get, the stronger the longing._

_My thoughts, your nakedness besets. My fantasies, your lechery buffets._

Osana felt something hanging from her neck. It's hot breath could be compared close enough to steam. She held her breath. She did not want to turn around. For she knew she was getting the mysterious stranger her attention. Trying to act cordial, she bowed and removed herself from the situation. She sat somewhere closer to people, just enough distance from the mysterious stranger.

Osana thought she was in the clear when her station was called. With haste, she got herself out of the boxcar.

Now, she was doing her best to keep her composure. To ensure her safety, she had already dialed the numbers on her phone to activate the security to her house.

She knew if she phoned the police, it wouldn't be enough time to trace the origin of her whereabouts. This was the only option she could think of.

She walked alone with her tail on the lone street. She prayed silently for her safety. Because as she picked up the pace, so did her tail. She concluded when she made it to the corner of her street, she was going to make a run for it.

She was panting, consumed with fear. Hoping that she was able to think smart of her plan. She had one shot. She was going to dart quickly to her home. She didn't have that much time left. Her corner was swiftly approaching.

That was when she noticed that the tail was pacing faster. Without hesitation, Osana made a run for it. She darted as quickly as possible to her home. She pushed garbage cans and an obstruction to blockade the tail.

Osana was wailing in fear as she finally made it to the gate of her house. There was only one problem: the code did not activate.

"Oh shit," she screamed.

She pulled out her phone to unlock the code for the gates.

"Hurry up. Hurry up," she screams. Knowing that feet away is the tail. Its pacing continued to go faster and faster.

She dialed the numbers before the gates activated. She ran inside and quickly shut the gates. She ran to the front door. No time to reach in her purse, she retrieved the spare key from under the mat to open the door.

She pushed the door and closed it loudly before sitting on the floor. She shook her head and cried into her palm for the ordeal she had unfortunately participated.

"Oh my, God," she said to herself.

She was panting loudly. She tried to take a couple of breaths, but were very difficult. After a few moments, she was able to calm down.

She pulled out her cell phone. She called the first number she could think of.

"Please pick up," she said panickedly. "Please pick up."

_Hi, this is the phone of Taro Yamada. Sorry, I can't come to the phone right now. Either I am busy or Osana is keeping me busy. Please leave a message and I will get back to you as soon as possible. Thanks and have a great day!_

Then, came the message tone. "Hey, you baka. Why can't you answer you phone? I wanted to see if this shit for brains was bored. Apparently not. Please call me back, you baka virgin. She hang up the phone. Her hands were rattling, shaking in fear. Knowing she just was inches from danger and lying to Taro to avoid to truth of her impending danger.

The phone rang. It wasn't her phone, but the house phone. Osana stood up to go to the phone. She picked it up.

"Hello," she asked.

There was static on the other end. A grainy kind of sound.

_In...your...absenc...in...your...absence._

"Hello," she answered again.

_In...bsenc...in...your...nakedness_

She was trembling. Her hands were shaking. Her pores were vacating onto her forehead. She was consumed with fear. Unknown on who was on the receiver.

"If you think this is game," she said. "Then I am calling the police."

The static disappear and suddenly the receiver answered.

"I fear the closer we get, the stronger the longing."

Tears formed in her eyes. The caller continued.

"In your absence, my thoughts, your nakedness besets. My fantasies, your lechery buffets."

The voice was distorted, but continued.

"Gaze into my eyes as I gaze on to yours."

_Tap…_

_Tap…_

_Tap…_

Osana slowly tilted her head. She dropped the phone when she saw the mysterious stranger at the foot of her door. The sounds of the door were unlocking.

The sound of footsteps accompanied by the sound of urine descending to the floor caused Osana to run upstairs. She quickly made her way upstairs. When she approached the hallway, she decided to hide in the closet. She shut the closet door, hid behind some clothes, and muffled her mouth.

As she waited in hiding, she hoped for a few things. She hoped that she can see her parents again, she hoped that she can be a better person, and she hoped that she can see Taro again.

_Tap…_

_Tap…_

_Tap…_


End file.
